


Promise Me

by FreckledJean



Series: What We Were [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, French Jean, Humor, Implied Reincarnation/Past Life, M/M, Mild Language, Recreational Drug Use, friendship that turns excessively gay, youtube au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckledJean/pseuds/FreckledJean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Marco is an American YouTuber that just happens to go abroad to France and makes a collab with that one french two-toned hair YouTuber. That one collab leads to a friendship that could, <em>I dunno</em>, lead to love.<br/>Complete with adorable fluff, horrible angst, and some half-jokes, cause why not. Expect some canon references that may or may not make you a 'bit' sad.<br/>A story of how promises are made, and how Marco Bodt falls hopelessly in love with Jean Kirschtein.</p><p>EDIT: Undergoing extreme revision :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My Beating Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/991568) by [Lownly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lownly/pseuds/Lownly). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The study of french youtubers
> 
> [Jean's PoV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1195209)

_I connect the stars to build a map to you_  
_In the empty space we're dreaming_    
_Will we still know the truth_

-Phillip Phillips ( _Where We Came From_ )

* * *

I sprinted towards the terminal, panting and charging to my gate. I reached the desk and handed the flight attendant my ticket, bending over slightly to try and catch my breath.

“Just in the nick of time Mr. Bodt. Here you are.” The woman gave me a tight smile and waved me through the door. I nodded my thanks and briskly walked down the hall taking long strides to get onto the plane, rushing to find my seat and sit down. I set my bag down in the empty chair next to me and leaned back, still breathing heavily to catch my breath. Made it… France here I come.  

To make this intro short and sweet, unlike my flight; this is the story of how I fell so hopelessly enamored with a sandy haired French boy, Jean Kirschstein.

* * *

I had been comfortably sprawled out on the couch in the living room, laptop positioned in my lap as I edited the most recent video I had made. _The things I do for these videos._ I had woken up early to film it to get the perfect lighting so the sun could catch my freckles, my eyes and give my skin a healthy glow. My roommate had woken up just in time for her girlfriend to knock on the door and announce they were getting Starbucks. I had uttered an inhuman groan and my roommate had grumpily promised to return with coffee. _I definitely needed some coffee to help me wake up._  

I heard the door open and continued on with the tedious task of coming up with a synopsis of the video. I typed in a few fillers and grimaced, _oh hon hon, bonjour, or Bonjour, France, Au revoir, America._ I didn’t need anything fancy but everything I typed was horrendous. I craned my neck to see the two girls walk in. “I got you your coffee.” The tall freckled girl called her voice unusually light. I saw the cup on the kitchen bar and hastily set my laptop on the coffee table, nearly vaulting from the couch.

I grabbed the mocha and hummed, fishing out a five from my pocket and dumped it into her awaiting hand, “thanks, Ymir!”

I sipped on the coffee and smiled, my eyes glancing to the tiny blonde standing behind Ymir and watching me warmly while sipping her Frappuccino, “Did you finish your video?” she chirped, twisting her straw around, stirring the whip cream into the rest of her drink.

“Yeah, mostly, just have to finish up some editing.” I sighed. At least I had finished with the largest portion of trimming the video. I really needed to work on filming shorter videos so I had less to do afterwards. You can only listen and watch yourself so many times before it gets really freaky and you start wondering if you always move your lips like that when you talk or if you really lean your head that much when you laugh.

 “How long have you been on that computer?” Ymir laughed, leaning against the kitchen counter, dropping the Starbucks bag on the counter.

“Since I woke up around seven,” I mumbled, keeping my lips pressed to the lid of the coffee cup. Ymir groaned and I chuckled lightly, “tell me about it. It takes forever to edit these videos. I would advise not to pursue being a youtuber.” I said, leaning forward to rest my head down on the counter. I sighed softly, enjoying the cool granite against my skin. _A nap sounds so good right about now._ I turned my head slightly, peeking out and eyeing the time. Only ten thirty. _How do people go all day without naps?_

Her girlfriend, Christa, padded over to the couch, her boots abandoned near the door. She sat down and leaned forward toward the editing software loaded on the screen. “What’s this video of?” she asked, chewing on her straw and shooting a glance at me.

I picked up my head and put the cup to my lips, “My announcement that I’m going to France.” I took a gulp and then reached for the Starbucks bag still sitting on the counter. I had it in front of me and was just about to peek inside to see what she got before Ymir smacked my hand away. I pulled my hand back, wincing and gave her my best pout with a combination of puppy eyes, but her hard eyes watched me warily and she shoved the blueberry scone in her mouth, her cheeks puffing out like a squirrel.

“Alone?” she grunted, the sound garbled with the amount of food in her cheeks.

“Yes, alone.” I coughed, setting my coffee down and glancing at Christa who was chuckling softly. I turned back to her and snickered, “I was going to ask if you’d do the fluffy bunny challenge with me, but I think you’d be able to beat me with the amount you just shoved in your mouth.”

Ymir nearly choked and scowled at me, her hands on her sharp hips and I pursed my lips, trying to contain the smile daring the peek out. She managed to swallow the scone in her mouth and then she took a step forward slowly. I leaned back hesitantly and raised an eyebrow, preparing myself to sprint away from the counter if she lunged. Her hand shot out and before I could get away, it smacked me upside the head. “I’ll tell _you_ where you can shove it, right up-”

 “Ymir,” Christa stated calmly, the couch groaned in protest as she stood up. She walked over next to her, grabbing Ymir’s clenched fist and placing her empty cup into her hands and smiled fondly up at her. She leaned up, kissed her cheek and whispered something in her ear, Ymir’s eyes widening slightly. She turned briskly to throw away the cup, and then hastily walked away to her bedroom.

“What did you-” I asked, dumbfounded. I hadn’t seen her retreat that fast since I caught her sexting- oh.

Christa smiled nonchalantly, her bright blue eyes looking at me inquisitively, “Why are you going to France? And where are you going in France?”

I was still hung up over the fact that whatever I just witnessed was that Christa was a lot more devious than I previously assumed and everything I thought about their relationship had been a lie. I peered at Christa who still stood there innocently as if nothing had happened, her fingers wrung in front of her, the sweet smile spread across her lips. I spoke slowly, too many things running through my head all at once, “It’s a year-long abroad program. I get to study the architecture and learn the history of the buildings all over France in a couple classes. I get a lot more free time than I would’ve expected so it’s probably really intense or something like that.”

“That sounds interesting! Do you know what city you’ll be in?” She asked, propping herself up next to me on a stool.

“Rennes mostly, although we’re going to spend many weeks in Versailles and Paris,” I popped the lid off my cup and tipped my head back to drain the last of the mocha.

 “Do you know the youtuber, Jeanisnotahorse?” She asked quickly as soon as I stopped talking and I could hear the snorts of laughter from Ymir’s bedroom. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put it to anything and I blinked at her perplexedly then shook my head. Christa wasted no time in walking back over to my laptop, dragging me with her. She pulled up the browser and searched his name. She clicked on one of the videos, making it full-screen and turned the screen towards me, patting the seat next to her. “He lives in Rennes. You should see his collab with Eren Jeager. It’s hilarious.”

I was already drawn to it, the opening had played a soundtrack that sounded like trendsetter by Goose and displayed a clip of a skinny man wearing a horsehead and dancing poorly, “What’s this one called?” I asked, settling down next to her.

“How to be a player,” she snickered, standing up and strolling over to Ymir’s door, knocking and poked her head in, “You ready, babe?”

Ymir quickly came strolling out of her room, nodding. Christa leaned over my shoulder and gave me a small hug, letting me know they were heading out for lunch. Ymir rudely let me know that I wasn’t invited and I placed my hands over my heart, acting as if I had just been severely wounded. I waved halfheartedly when the two said their goodbyes and continued watching the sandy-haired boy on screen, completely transfixed. He spoke English well in his videos but the man was clearly very French. Each word that came out of his mouth was laced with the thick nasally rolls on the ‘r’ and over stressed syllables. He called out to someone on the video, spewing French and I blinked in awe at the familiarity of his voice.

“Step two: Give them a nice compliment.” Jean wiggled his eyebrows and the view clipped to him walking past a beautiful Asian girl and he froze, his cheeks turning slightly pink before he blurted, “You’re hair is pretty.” He then turned extremely red and sprinted off screen, the girl blinked at him, furrowed her brows, and her lips twitched as she held back her laughter.

Step three rolled onto the screen and Jean came back into view, looking rather smug, “Since that obviously worked so fantastically, we move onto step three. Making a move, make sure you are original. We don’t accept clichés.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up effectively and then nodding. It cuts to a couch where Jean and the Asian girl are sitting, a bucket of popcorn in Jean’s lap. He picks one kernel up and yawns, wrapping his arm around the girl and trying to shove the popcorn into her mouth. The girl kept her lips pressed firmly together, leaning back into Jean’s body to avoid the onslaught of kernels. The sandy haired boy looks so smug for a moment before she recoils from Jean, slapping his hand away and flips the bowl of popcorn on his lap and shoves him off the couch.

The video finished by showing the bloopers of the two, the Asian girl was introduced as Mikasa, and the bloopers largely consisted of Mikasa dying laughing as Jean tried to complete his lines, or started making faces during the shoots. I quickly clicked on another video by him after it finished. I was letting out those weird nose puff laughter’s every few minutes, which half the time evolved into side splitting laughter. I was watching one of his videos where he was trying to say a tongue twister about Jean’s jeans when I heard my phone announce I had a text. I glanced at it letting Jean’s voice play in the background while I picked it up, hearing Jean curse loudly as he messed up again.

 ** _From : Christa_**  
**_Are you still watching him?_**

 ** _To : Christa_**  
**_I might be hehe_**

I glanced at the time on my phone and my eyes widened, how had I let myself watch his videos for two hours?! I couldn’t believe I had been so enveloped in his videos to remember my own. I switched over to the editing software to my forgotten video, quickly applying the finishing touches and slapped on a lame synopsis and posted it. I slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a drink before settling back on the couch, pulling my laptop back onto my legs. The guy was hilarious. I had nothing else to do anyways. I see no problem with watching more… right? Also, I had met this guy before. And I knew, I _knew_  I had seen him before. But he lived in France and he’s never been to Seattle, so where did I meet him?

 ** _From : Christa_**  
**_Have you watched the dare with Eren yet? 83_**

Taking a large gulp of my drink, I scrolled through his list of uploaded videos and found the collection of collabs with Eren. I clicked on the first one; Dare 1 with Jeager. I clasped a hand over my mouth to keep from doing a spit take all over my laptop as his video opened with an egg hitting Jeans face and he glared at the camera before he screamed, some French slipping out “LA TASSE, ESPÈCE DE CON. YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO HIT THE CUP.” Jean then proceeded to run off screen, the remains of the egg dripping off his chin and a red plastic cup still strapped to his forehead. Loud barks of laughter were heard off camera and the camera toppled over and Jeans voice growled, “Jeager you’re dead.” His intro played and I picked up my phone to respond to Christa, still shaking with peals of laughter.

 ** _To : Christa_**  
**_I am now :D_**

 ** _From : Christa_**  
**_Which one are you watching? 8D_**

I chuckled at Jean as he took another egg to the face, closing his eyes and letting out a loud sigh as Eren laughed and appeared on screen to point out the yolk that slowly slid off Jeans nose. Eren grinned wolfishly and smacked another egg onto Jean’s face before Jean lunged and shoved an egg into his friends face. Both of them ending up fighting and losing their footing on the slimy floor and falling on their asses.

 ** _To : Christa_**  
**_Dare 1. hehehe. xD_**

 ** _From : Christa_**  
**_OMG. THT ONE IS SO GREAT!!_**

I laughed at her text and continued watching the video. Eventually Eren walked slowly onto the screen with a tiny Dixie cup strapped to his head. His eyes were focused onto the cup with a large frown. He looked back to the camera, “Why is this stupid cup so much fucking smaller than yours?” Eren whined, flicking the cup with his fingers.

Jean chuckled behind the camera, “I’m just representing you for my audience.”

Eren glared at him, “So yours was compensating for something else?” He snickered, pleased with his comeback; not for too long, as an egg came flying into his face and yolk splattered in his mouth. “Ah- EW! Horseface!” He roared and spit out some of the shell, a look of disgust as he tried to wipe the yolk off his tongue.

When I was able to breathe again after his video, I checked on my recent upload and blushed at some of the blunt comments. I had some pretty outgoing subscribers; the amount of ‘marry me Marco’s were increasing. It was weird to know that there were people out there who would leave comments like that, or that they focused their attention on figuring out how to meet you. There weren’t too many comments yet, but I recognized my friend’s comments almost instantly.

 ** _Christa019:_**  
**_Have fun!!_**

 ** _Sasha-loves-food:_**  
**_Bring me french fries._**

 ** _RBraunadjfik:_**  
**_Bang some hot french guys._**

I laughed at Sasha’s comment for a moment, remembering that she was supposed to be living in France for the next year or so. I went to check my messages and noticed the few new ones, giving requests or just praising my channel before I noticed the one that nearly made me slip off the couch.

 ** _Jeanisnotahorse:_**  
**_Hey Marco. Stumbled upon your channel that is cool you are coming to Rennes, we should do a collab while you are here._**

I stared and stared at the message. Jean wanted to do a collab with _me?_ Wait, that can’t be-. _What?_  I was the nerdy kid with freckles and he was the cool French daredevil. I hadn’t done a collab before, much less with someone with as many followers as Jean. Just the thought of being able to meet him though was thrilling. I grinned and quickly responded to the message.

 ** _Amazingmarco:_**  
**_Oh, wow! Hi Jean! I’d love to do a collab with you! :)_**

After watching the guy’s videos I felt like I had just been creeping on the guy all day. I mean seriously, I was getting oddly too obsessed with the guy. I had been ogling his videos for so long I felt like we were close friends already.  _More like a one-sided, close friend that is_. I stared at the comment and then refreshed the page a couple times. As if the guy was just going to be sitting at his computer waiting for the Amazingmarco to respond, I chided myself.  Sucking my bottom lip in when I saw nothing I quickly stood up from the sofa and walked away from the laptop. Sitting there staring at it wasn’t going to do me any good.

My stomach was growling quite loudly so I make a beeline for the fridge and reached for a can of coke and the leftover pizza. I heard my phone chirping and shoved the pizza in the microwave, punching the time and then went scrabbling for my phone and picking it up, “Hello?”

“Hello, Marco, you know who else is in Rennes?” my sister’s voice chimes through the phone. I twist around and look at the time displayed on the clock and frown. It’s still only 2:40, she should be in class right now.

“No? And shouldn’t you be in class?”

 "Field day,” she says flatly, as if it’s a world-wide known fact, “Jean mother fucking Kirschtein.” The microwave angrily goes off and I laughed and pulled the pizza from the microwave and moved back to the couch.

 "You get to use your phones now on Field day? Lucky.” I heard her snort and propped my feet up on the coffee table, pressing the power button on the remote. The _Spongebob Squarepants_ theme song blares out and I frantically grabbed the remote for the volume to turn it down.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Marci sang in my ear and I winced.

“Don’t do it, Marci,” I groaned, pulling my laptop toward me and pressing refresh just to check.

“I can’t hear you,” She teased, and I made a large sound of discomfort before she finally stopped, cut off by her own laughter. I looked at the laptop and gasped. A new comment was at the top of the page from Jean.

 ** _Jeanisnotahorse:_**  
**_Cool. You ever been to France?_**

“What happened?” Marci asked, still giggling a little. I kept staring at the screen and made some kind of blubbering noise and she cackled in my ear, “Are you trying to flirt with someone and exploding? See, this is why you need me.”

I waved helplessly at the screen as if she could see, “No! Just… You mentioned Jean Kirschtein, right?”

“Are you flirting with him?” She shrieked and I pulled my phone away from my ear quickly, sighing before I tried again.

“No, please don’t do that, I think I’ll go deaf.” I mumbled, twisting the laptop towards me and balancing the phone between my shoulder and cheek, “He messaged me after my last video. He wants to do a collab when I get there.”

“Oh my god, I called it, I so fucking called it.”

“Language,” I muttered, glancing at my abandoned pizza and then back at the screen.

“Ok, Captain America.” She quipped, “What did you answer?” I smiled, feeling like we were back at home sitting on my bed and talking like we used to. For being five years younger she sure knew how to give some great advice on dating. Sometimes. Shifting on my spot on the couch I grabbed my pizza and leaned back.

“I said, I would love to, and then he answered with ‘cool. Have you been to France before’ and I haven’t responded yet.” I took a bite of the pizza and grimaced at the uneven temperatures. Stupid microwave really needed to be replaced, couldn’t heat up anything thoroughly.

“Answer him,” Marci whined. I heard a whistle and then the noise in the background started to die down, “Ok, you answer him and tell me everything later ok. Everything,” She emphasized, “I have to go, love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too Marci. Say hi to mom for me?” I smiled, pulling up the reply box.

“Mhm,” she hummed, muttering another goodbye and then hung up. I set the phone down and took another bite of my pizza. I glanced at the TV that was still playing Spongebob and turned it to the xbox, grabbing the controller and switching it to Netflix. I turned back to the laptop as it loaded.

**Amazingmarco:**  
**No, I’ve wanted to go for years though. I’m so excited! Anywhere I should check out while I’m there?**

I checked it and then pressed send, shoved the laptop away and then grabbed the controller and my pizza. Today really felt like a Chuck kind of day and I found it quickly, pressing play and settling back into the couch.

I tapped out the rhythm to the opening and about halfway through the episode mint ice cream got mentioned so I rolled off the couch and threw out my trash moving to the freezer, grabbed said delicacy and shuffled back to the couch. I balanced the ice cream and pulled the laptop next to me and refreshed the page.

I propped my feet up and took a bite of the ice cream before glancing at the page, grinning at Jean’s response.

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**You’re talking to the wrong man freckles. I’m an inside man, I don’t do touristy things.**

**Amazingmarco:**  
**So what does an inside man like your self do other than film videos in the bedroom?**

I pressed send and then paused, my eyes scanning over the message again and then I paled. I did _not_ just say that.  I panicked and quickly opened another message window.

**Amazingmarco:**  
**Omg, that sounded suggestive, I didn’t mean for that.**

I sent it and then threaded my fingers through my hair and refreshed the page, quickly looking towards the TV, not quite ready to see if he had responded. I finished off my ice cream, releasing the dorky grin as Morgan revealed Shaw’s pulled punches.

I was so ready for shit to hit the fan.

I knew what was coming next from watching Chuck many times before. Marci said it was a problem, and that I was a bit too attached to Zachary Levi, considering Tangled was also my favorite movie.

I glanced over to the laptop again and grinned.

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**You’re good man I say dumb shit all the time.**

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**I am a full-time couch potato if you must know**

My phone started ringing and I picked it up checking who it was before answering the call. “Hey,” I checked the time and laughed, “Did you just get out of class?”

“Hey Cap. I haven’t been paying attention. These two bums in front of me would not stop passing notes and being couply. Made me think of you.” My sister grumbled and I laughed, rolling my eyes and leaning back into the couch, letting Netflix lead into the next episode of Chuck. “Speaking of couples; have you been talking to Jean?”

“If you must know, yes I have, and we are not a couple what the heck, Marci.” I switched tabs and scrolled through Facebook, switching back upon finding nothing. I mindlessly tapped my fingers on the keyboard and opened up a window to respond, chewing on my lip.

**Amazingmarco:**  
**Oh really? That’s cool, I’m only a part-time couch potato. The pay’s awful.**

“So what have you been talking about?” She chirped, the noise in the background noise dying down.

“Our jobs as couch potatoes,” I hummed, changing my attention back to the TV.

 “You’re kidding me.”

“As a matter of fact no, he started it so no judging.” I warned, leaving my comfortable spot on the couch to clean up my mess on the coffee table. I dumped the dishes in the sink and twisted around to see the TV as I cleaned the plates, “A lot of homework today?”

“I’m still judging you guys by the way, and surprisingly no, they actually don’t want us to cry tonight! Thank god tomorrow is Friday.”

I laugh and switch the phone to my other ear, setting the dishes in their places in the cabinets, “So you’d be free tonight?” I smiled as I heard her delighted squeak.

“Are you planning to drop by?” The smile was evident in her voice.

“Well I’m pretty sure Ymir is staying at Christa’s so I’ll be all alone for dinner. Will Mom be home?” I ask, walking back towards the TV and checking the laptop.

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**It really is shit isn’t it, 0€ is such a rip off**

**Amazingmarco:**  
**You don’t get paid either?! We really should go to corporate.**

“Oh, no she won’t, she’s got an extra shift tonight.” She sounded defeated and I switched off the TV, setting the remote down and walked into my bedroom, and into my closet. I grabbed some jeans and tossed them onto the bed, hopping out of my sweatpants.

“Ok, I’ve got to change and then I can be over there in half an hour or so. That work for you?” I hopped into the jeans, nearly dropping my phone in the process.

“Yeah! Bring your laptop too. I want to help you talk to Jean.” I chuckled and said my goodbyes before hanging up. I tucked the phone into my pocket, and shuffled around the apartment, grabbing a both my laptop and phone charger and shoved them into a bag along with my laptop. Giving one final check, I grabbed my keys and left, locking the door behind me and shooting Marci a text that I was on my way.

* * *

 

  **From: small nerd**  
**r u here yet?**

I chuckle and shut the car door, typing out a response even though I’m sure she’s heard me outside the house by now. I can hear the dog barking inside and I grin.

**To: small nerd**  
**Yup!**

**From: small nerd**  
**door’s unlocked :)))**

**To: small nerd**  
**You really should lock it behind you girl**

**From: small nerd**  
**too much effort :P**

I walk up to the door and knock before entering, setting my bag down and quickly shut and lock the door behind me as the Great Dane bounds around the corner, “Hey Titan! Miss me boy?” The dog tackled me, his massive paws looping over my shoulders and pinning me to the door as he hugged me. He tried to lick me but I push him back, laughing as he whines softly, treading behind my heels as I pick up my bag again and walk further into the house, “Marci?”

“Eeeey,” She calls from the living room and Titan pats past me, jumping over the back of the couch causing Marci to scream in shock as a massive weight falls on her, “You are too giant to be a lap dog oh my gosh.” She groans, sounding winded. Titan shifts around, laying his head on her stomach, his body crushing her legs. I walk over to the back of the couch and grin down at her.

 “I have to admit, I did not miss the lap dog.”

“Take him to France please.” She pleads, petting Titans head and tries to shift her legs away from underneath the dog. I laugh as she manages to get her legs free and has to sit up to keep Titan from pinning her again, “How does he not realize he’s like a trillion pounds?”

“Marci, he’s like two years old, he just wants you to love him.” I stick my tongue out at her and slide into the armchair next to the couch, glancing at the TV to see what she had been watching. “What is this?”

“Vampire Diaries. Get with it gosh, Marco.” She teases, snickering as I wrinkle my nose. “You see, Stefan and Elena are so in love, but this asshole, Damon, Stefan’s brother, is like always in their way and trying to just be a dick, right?”

“Marci,” I say flatly, staring at her until she grins widely, “I’m sorry but I don’t really care.”

“Nah it’s ok, I’ll get you into it at some point,” She cuddles up next to Titan and pets behind his ear, having to dodge him when he tries to lick her, “you’ll see.”

I snorted and pulled out my laptop, tossing my legs over the side of the arm chair and leaning back, “I’m sure you will.” I pull up a browser and drum my fingers on the keyboard before typing in youtube. Might as well see if Jean responded. Marci rolls off the couch against Titan’s wishes and shuffles over next to me, her elbows resting against the edge of the seat next to me.

“Has he responded?”

I look in the message window and grin, “yup.”

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**theyd fucking make us pay them.**

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**when are you getting to france**

“Go to corporate? Marco you’re lucky he’s as dorky as you otherwise you’d be so screwed without me.” Marci shot a look at me and sighed. She twisted around, pulling her own laptop towards her and stared at me for a moment before choosing to open it, “What are you going to say back?”

“Well he did ask me a question Marci, I’m not that incompetent of having a conversation.”

“I dunno, you can be pretty helpless sometimes.” She snickered, pushing open her laptop. I smacked her lightly and she pouted, rubbing the back of her head. “Such an abusive brother,” she laughed anyways.

“I think you’re more abusive.”

**Amazingmarco:**  
**My flight is on Friday. I’ll probably be getting to Rennes pretty late though.**

I struggled in the seat, wiggling my way out and leaving the laptop in the chair and grabbed my phone, “Hungry?”

“Oh boy, are you going to feed me?” She grinned, pushing herself against the chair and starting the next episode of her show.  I laughed and nodded, trotting to the kitchen.

**To: Mom**  
**I’m going to steal some food to feed me and Marci just so you know :)**

I shot my mom a text, wondering if she even had food in stock. We used to always order take out in excessive amounts. “Anything you feel like eating? Otherwise it’s probably grilled cheese.” I call out to Marci, glancing over my shoulder to see her picking up my laptop. “Marci, what are you doing?”

“Manning the youtubes.” A devious grin spread on her lips and my eyes narrowed, suddenly worried. “And yes, grilled cheese is fine.” She stood up, my laptop in her hands and walked over to the kitchen with me, setting the laptop on the counter and started playing music. “I’ll keep watch and talk for you. I do a mean Marco impression don’t worry.” She smiled pleasantly.

“I don’t trust you,” I said slowly, turning around and pulling out the bread and cheese nevertheless. I move around and set up the sandwiches, pinning Marci with a stare as she changes the music to Anaconda and lets out a cackle at my discomfort.

“I think someone is trying to type for him.” Marci giggles, “Or he just had a really bad hand spasm.” Curious, I dump the sandwiches on the grill and grab my laptop from her, swinging it around to see.

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**I could come geiau8p you fo0m the airip-0fpt**

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**If you give me a tpkfam**

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**I]-**

“What is happening?” I laugh, turning away from the laptop and flip the sandwiches, letting Marci take the control again. “Isn’t it like five a.m. or something in France right now?” Marci taps away at the keys and nods quickly.

“Not like you haven’t stayed up until five every now and then though.” She raises and eyebrow and I shrug, dropping the grilled cheese on a plate and putting it next to her. She gives me a wide smile and pulls it towards her, “Oh hey Jean’s still going on with the spasms.”

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**My flatmate is being a pieceawe of shistom]rkl;**

**Amazingmarco:**  
**Jean, are you alright?**

I grabbed my plate and wander into the living room, setting the plate down on the coffee table before walking back over to Marci and pulling the laptop away from her. “Hey, I was using that!” She pouts and I snort, plopping down on the couch next to Titan. His head is almost instantly in my lap.

“Use your own laptop girl.” I snatch the controller and stroll through Netflix, “Movie?”

“Oh yes. Isn’t Leap Year on here?”

“I was thinking How to train your Dragon but alright. You and your rom coms” I mumble, opening up the search window. Marci grins and sits down next to me, trying to find spare room and drape her legs over my lap. I sigh heavily and find the movie, dumping the controller on the table and struggling to grab my grilled cheese. I shut the laptop and lean back. I can feel the drool from Titan and complain yet Marci just laughs and munches on her sandwich, drool free.      

* * *

I grumble a little as I wake up, having dozed off during the movie. I can feel the weight on my lap and squint as the blinding light from the TV blurs my vision momentarily Netflix is still up, prompting us with more movies to watch and I look down at the two in my lap. Titan’s paw is resting on my leg, his head shoved off to the side to leave room for Marci as she’s curled on the sofa, using my lap as a pillow. I struggle to reach the controller and navigate to another show to play, landing on Friends.

I hear someone jamming a key into the lock and twist around to look at the time. It’s 3 am and I can see the weary thin frame of my mother walking in. She sets her bag on the hook near the door and runs her palms across her face, staggering into the living room. Her eyes widen when she sees me.

“Marco? I didn’t expect you to still be here.” She walks over to me, kissing my forehead and smiles. “Did you eat?”

I frown and nod, “Yup, I texted you.” Titan gets up from the couch, slow as he stretches while he walks across the living room.

“Oh, did you?” My mom pulls her phone out of her pocket and pouts “Wow, sorry.” She leans over the couch and brushes Marci’s hair out of her face, “How’s Ymir?” She shoves the phone back in her pocket and saunters over to the kitchen, the light flooding into the living room. I wiggle my way out from Marci’s head and shove a pillow under her before following my mom.

“Good, I’m waiting for the day she moves in with Krista though. She didn’t even know I was going to France. She never pays attention.” I laugh, pulling out two glasses and filling them with water. She laughs and pulls out some leftovers, dropping them on a plate and setting them into the microwave.

“When do you leave for France? Tomorrow right?”

“Yeah,” I hand her the glass of water and she smiles, “before you ask, I’m all packed and ready. Just need to pack the laptop.” She nods, her smile growing.

“I have raised you well.” The microwave beeps angrily and she quickly opens it, determined not to wake Marci in the other room. “Your room is still set up by the way; I haven’t changed it into a sewing room yet.”

“ _Yet,_ ” I snort. “In that case, I think I’ll go to sleep.” I smile at her, giving her a hug and I can feel her press a kiss to my cheek.

“I’ll probably be gone in the morning, so let me know before you take off and when you land ok?” She smiles warmly, fingers lingering on my cheek. “Goodnight sweetie.” I give her one more hug and kiss her cheek, nodding as I back out of the kitchen.

“I will, love you, Mom.”

“Love you too,” She whispers, slinking into the living room and turning off the TV.

I make it into my bedroom and true to her words, everything is exactly the way I left it before I went to college. The knickknacks have not even moved an inch and I walk straight to the bed, setting my phone down next to the bed and lay down. I rolled over, the little glow in the dark stars still shining dimly on the ceiling in little clusters. I moved around several times, trying to get comfortable, before finally closing my eyes.

* * *

_I couldn’t see anything but I couldn’t feel anything either. My body felt light and I couldn’t tell where I was. There was a small hum of a voice in front of me, but I wasn’t close enough to hear it._

_The darkness clouding the edge of my vision started to pull away._

_I was in a town, the architecture looked old, loved, the voice I had heard sounded French but I couldn’t tell so I got closer to the noise. As I got near the voice, I could make out what it was saying, “Marco?”_

_It sounded behind me so I turned sharply, looking around for the voice. I heard my own voice call out, but I couldn’t make out what I had said. I kept calling out, the tone growing frantic, and terrified. A shadow loomed over me suddenly. All I saw was the large, towering walls, a crooked smile, and hungry eyes._

_I could feel my body again but now I didn’t want to be able too. I could feel the strong tug on my arm, the bones crushing. The tear of skin across my shoulder. I screamed, calling out for someone._

_My right side burned, I couldn’t move._

_The darkness started to cloud my vision again, my side was going numb._

_I whispered something more and I could finally make out what I was saying, “Help me.” The beast froze, its fingers releasing me and I crumpled to the floor. The darkness took over my vision and I was left in the cold, empty black, the heavy thump of my heart ringing in my ears._

* * *

I wake myself up by my scream. I’m drenched in sweat and I can’t calm my breath. I see the door creak open, the light from the hallway pouring in and I can’t stare at anything other than my right arm. It’s still there, but the pain had felt so real.

“Marco?” It’s Marci. Her voice is shaking slightly. _Fuck._

“Hey, Mar… sorry did I wake you?” I mutter, prying my eyes away from the phantom biting feeling in my arm.

“I thought the nightmares were over?” She whispers, walking closer to the bed and sitting down near my waist. I don’t have the strength to answer so she just wraps her arms around me, holding me close. I grip her close to me, feeling something tug in my chest and I grit my teeth.

“I’m alright.” I hum, she still holds me, shaking her head.

“You want to go get coffee? I don’t think you’re going to be able to fall asleep again.”

I nod slowly, “What time is it?” I pull away from her, standing up after her and rubbing at my eyes. I grab my phone and turn it on, wincing as the bright light blinds me. 5:30. “Oh” I mutter, my head hanging.

“I was up anyways. Titan was licking my face. Also Jean says Hi.” She says softly.

“What.” That wakes me up, and I stare at her hard. “You’ve been talking to Jean?”

“Yeah, I told you, I’m a good Marco impersonator.” She has a smug grin across her lips and I groan loudly, pulling up the messages on my phone and walking outside the room grabbing my car keys and laptop along the way. “Oh yeah and I gave him your skype by the way.” I freeze and look towards her.

“Mar… why.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, “Easier. Faster than waiting on YouTube,” She trots past me and unlocks the door, jingling her key to tempt me faster, backpack in the other hand. Sighing, I walk after her, grabbing my shoes and let her lock the door after us as I hop in the car. I’m tying my shoes and trying to read the conversation between Marci and Jean and probably cursing more than I need to but I drop my phone so many times, it’s warranted.

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**Hey man, sorry about that, my flat mate really wanted to talk I had to punch him to get him to go away**

**Amazingmarco:**  
**Violence isn’t the answer.**

Marci hopped in the car and I shot her a glare, “Violence isn’t the answer. That’s your ‘ _amazing_ ’ impersonation?”

“Isn’t it spot on?” She stuck her tongue out and I rolled my eyes.

“I have never been so disappointed in you.”

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**Alright betty williams**

**Amazingmarco:**  
**Who?**

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**nvm what r u doing up isn’t it like 4 there or some shit**

**Amazingmarco:**  
**I could ask you the same thing. I had my dog lick me awake, what’s your excuse?**

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**Its 2 pm here fuck get with it freckles what kind of dog**

**Amazingmarco:**  
**Great Dane. His name is Titan :)))**

**Jeanisnotahorse:**  
**omg originality on point man props to you**

I dropped the phone to the side and sighed, “Work on your impersonation of me. And why does he not use punctuation.” I grumped, backing out of the driveway and heading to the coffee house.

“I asked him, and he says it’s because if he doesn’t put any he can’t be wrong.” She giggles and I join in, shaking my head.

“How long were you talking to him?”

“Umm, about an hour before I heard you…” She trails off, wringing her fingers together and chewing on her lip. She picks up my phone and starts twirling it in her fingers.

“Ah.” The only music playing on the radio around 6 was old 90’s music and I turn it up as pump it comes on. Marci perks up and every time ‘pump it’ is said she turns it up a little more. By the time we get to the coffee house, my ears are ringing and I’m pretty sure we woke up the neighborhood with how loud our radio was. I shut the car off and slip out of the car, locking it and following Marci inside. Amazingly the place is open and we sit down, ordering coffee and some pancakes. I feel my phone buzz and confused I look at it, seeing a notification from Jean.

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**Am I going to be your first collab**

**Robodt:**  
**Yeah :o**

“Who is it?” Marci asked, leaning over the table to try to see my phone.

“Who else, Mar. I like how his skype name is the same as YouTube only it’s in French.” I grin, setting the phone down as I see the waitress bringing our food and drinks over. She wordlessly leaves it on the table and walks off. Marci digs into the pancakes and I slowly eat mine, keeping an eye on the phone, waiting for a response from Jean.

“Your flight is today right?” Marci mumbles as she swallows her mouthful, already preparing her next bite. I sip on the coffee and nod, seeing the phone buzz again. I’m too slow and Marci already has a hold on it, typing in my passcode and grinning, “Hey would you look at that. _When you said Friday, did you mean this Friday or next Friday?_ ” She smirks at me and types out a response quickly and drops the phone back on the table.

“What did you say?” I squint at her, soaking my pancakes in syrup.

“This Friday, duh,” She’s still grinning mischievously and I reach for the phone, unlocking it and groaning.

**Robodt:**  
**Today yup! :)**

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**and ur getting here late right**

**Robodt:**  
**Yup**

I can see the notification that he’s typing and continue holding the phone, ignoring Marci’s continuous questions to see what he’s saying and pull the phone away from her greedy fingers. The notification goes away and comes back several times and I shut the screen off, stuffing the phone in my back pocket. Marci pouts but keeps eating her pancakes anyways.

“Are you going to be back for Christmas?”

“Yeah, I think so.” I pick at the pancakes, before finally taking another bite. “I’m not positive that our breaks will match up, but I’ll make sure to be at the house a lot when I’m back” I smile warmly at her and she returns it happily.

“You can drop me off at school right?”

“Yeah of course, need to go now?” I pull out my phone, impressed we’d managed to kill at least an hour already. I take another gulp of coffee and grab for my wallet, pulling out a twenty and putting it on the table.

“Yup, I have to meet up with some people to work on a project.” She shimmies out of the booth, pulling out her phone and texting while she waits for me. It’s a fairly quiet ride heading to the high school. The music on the radio has switched to more current things, but it’s kept low. I pull into the parking lot and park, leaving the car on and getting outside. I walk over to Marci’s side and just as she scrambles out of the car I wrap her in a bear hug. She squeaks a little but then is instantly hugging me back, her nose pressed into my neck. “Take care of yourself ok?”

“Don’t get in trouble.” I mutter back, hearing her grunt as I squeeze her tighter. I pull away finally, letting her breathe and she forces a smile. “If I’m correct, I should still be able to get messages, so you better text me ok? If I’m not on skype, that is.”

She nods, “Of course, Cap.” She swings her backpack on and hugs me one more time, pressing a kiss to my cheek, “Love you.”

“Love you too Mar.” She turns away and I shut the car door, walking around to my side and sliding in. Leaning on the steering wheel I pull out my phone, having felt the buzzing in my pack pocket for a while.

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**do you have a ride**  
**or a place to stay**  
**if Im not being obvious do you want me to pick you up**  
**and my apartmentS chill if u want to crash here for the night**  
**you did say you were getting here late anyways**  
**freckles…**

**Robodt:**  
**I mean if you’re offering I wouldn’t say no**

It’s not even a minute before I get a response.

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**that’s a yes then**

I snort and set the phone down, backing up and driving back to my apartment. I see Ymir’s car outside the apartment along with Krista’s and pull into the spot next to them, killing the engine and then sitting there for a minute as I respond back to Jean.

**Robodt:**  
**Yeees it is**

I see the notification he’s responding and then it disappears and doesn’t come back. I get out of the car, grabbing my laptop and walk in the building, “Ey fellow freckles, is this the walk of shame?” I drop my keys in the bowl by the door and stare blankly at Ymir as a shit eating grin spreads across her lips.

“If visiting my sister and mom is a walk of shame sure.” I grumble, dragging my feet towards my bedroom and grabbing my luggage. I set my laptop down next to it and search for a backpack. I can see Krista leaning on the door frame out of the corner of my eye.

“Marco, are you alright?”

I hum nonchalantly and snatch the backpack shoved between the laundry basket and pile of textbooks. I drop the laptop inside its case and then into the backpack, stuffing anything else into it that I consider important and then set the camera bag next to the rest of the luggage. Krista still stands in the doorway, “Are you sure? You look pale.”

I sit down and ran my fingers through my hair, my palms were sweaty and I did feel lightheaded. “I- I think I’m gonna rest. Long night.” I mutter, moving the luggage to the ground. Krista chews her lip before she nods and finally backs away from the door closing the door behind her. I hear the mutters through the door and then Ymir snorts.

“You’re such an old man Marco.”

“Shut up Ymir.” I yell back, curling into my sheets. I don’t even think I’ll be able to sleep for a while, I can still feel the crush of bone in my body. I still hear the screams and then the blinding pain flooding my body when the numbness wears off momentarily before I had blacked out. It felt too real. I sit up and run my hands down my thighs, breathing out heavily.

“Just remember we’re going to the airport in a few hours.” I frown at Ymir’s voice and slowly twist to look at the alarm clock, it’s only 7. It feels so much later than it is, my flight is coming too fast. I flop back on the bed and groan loudly. “Don’t get too excited, fifteen hours will be fun.”

“Ymir, let him rest.” I hear Krista sigh, she still sounds close to the door and I huff, draping an arm over my eyes to try and make the room darker. I was very aware at the luggage by my feet and no amount of comfort from Jean or anyone could make me excited right now. I could only hope that the nightmares hadn’t returned for good.

* * *

 

“Wake up Captain Freckles, rise and shine it’s time to fly.” I squinted and groaned, twisting in my bed. “Oh come on.” Ymir growled from the other side of the door before it was flung open and she stormed in, no Krista behind her to calm the tide. She grabbed one of my bags and flung it over her shoulder, “You better be out to the car in three minutes otherwise I’m dragging your ass there in all your sleepy glory for the neighbors to see.” She left the room in a fluid motion, the sound of the front door slamming shut sounding and I sat up slowly.

Deciding not to face the wrath of Ymir I stood up and moved towards the front door, grabbing my keys and then shut the door behind me, sliding the key into the lock. “Hurry up!” I heard the bark from Ymir and shot her a look over my shoulder, hoping it was just as menacing. I stuffed the keys in my pocket and grabbed my phone from my back pocket, happy it was still there since I hadn’t checked before I locked the door. I shuffled over to her car and slid in, barely getting my seat belt on before she was already pulling out and speeding off.

**To:Mom**  
**Off to the airport!**

**To: small nerd**  
**If the plane doesn’t kill me Ymir will.**

I sit back in the car, my knee bouncing thunderously against the bottom of the car and I can see Ymir seething in the driver’s seat. “Did you and Krista fight or something?” I ask cautiously. “I mean normally you’re an angry person but you look like you’re finally going to put the plan for the world’s destruction in motion.”

She slammed on the brakes as a light turned yellow and I sucked in a breath as my seatbelt locked on me. “I bought something.” She whispers. I narrow my eyes at her and start to see that her anger isn’t really anger at all. The great Ymir is nervous.

“What did you buy,” I say flatly, ignoring my phone as it buzzes in my hands.

“A thing.” Ymir states, her shift from the break to the gas pedal is rocky and I’m pressed back into the seat. “An expensive thing.” She mutters again, wildly changing lanes. I grip the edge of my seat and glance out the window to see someone flicking Ymir off as they zoom around her. “I might have gone to a jewelry store.”

“Whoa, slow down. Literally. And also, do you mean to tell me-”

“I’m gonna ask her.” Ymir’s lips are pressed together tightly, her eye brows furrowed but she slows down remotely, checking her lanes spastically.

“When?” I grin, “Also congratulations, she’s so saying yes. Unless you actually did get in a fight. You didn’t right?”

Ymir shakes her head vigorously, “No, we didn’t. I’m asking her on our anniversary. It’s coming up in a few weeks.” She glances at me nervously and then back to the road, “Fuck she better say yes.” She grumbles, I can see the way her lips curl up though. My smiles grows.

“She’s so saying yes. You guys have been dating forever.” I lean back in the seat, “Man why tell me now.”

“You’d tell.”

“I so would not, ye have little faith.” I groan, finally glancing down at my phone chuckling.

**From: Mom**  
**Let me know when you land! Hope you have a safe flight, and I love you :)**

**From: small nerd**  
**I’m amazed she hasn’t killed u already**

**From: small nerd**  
**I mean you’re such a big target**

**From: small nerd**  
**No violence but dumb**

**From: small nerd**  
**but I mean… she’s not gonna kill u right**

**To: small nerd**  
**No omg, u can’t tell Krista**

**From: small nerd**  
**I SwEAR WHAT IS IT**

**To: small nerd**  
**she bought**

**To: small nerd**  
**a fucking engagement ring**

**From: small nerd**  
**OMG FINALLY**

“Marci say’s finally” I snort, glancing out the window, seeing the airport in the distance.

“This is why I didn’t tell you sooner. First thing you do is tell Marci.” Ymir sighs but she sounds pleased. She pulls off the highway, easily making it through all the traffic into the airport. “You have your passport right?”

Dread washes over me and I frantically pat down my person, frantically looking at Ymir as she barks out laughter, “Oh man you should’ve seen your face.” She pops open the glove compartment and whips out my passport, dropping it on my lap, “Yeah I so would’ve killed you if you forgot that.” I laugh nervously and glance at my backpack in the backseat. “Your tickets in the backpack, I checked for you.” Ymir hummed, pulling up in the drop off area, and swiftly parked the car and slipped out grabbing my bags and dumping them on my side of the car.

I clambered out of the civic and grunted as she swept me up in a hug, “You suck,” She grumbled, her arms crushing me.

“I hate you too.” I choke out, patting her shoulders quickly, “You’re squishing me.” She laughs softly and backs up, ruffling my hair before leaning against the car.

“You let me know if you meet any cute French boys. Or girls.” She winks and I choke.

“Ymir, you’re a married woman.” I can barely see the blush across her cheeks and she punches my shoulder hard.

“Not yet.”

“You have to let me know how it goes, ok?” I smile, grabbing my bags. “And of course I’m telling you about any guys. Girls is debatable.” I wink and take a step back towards the doors.

“You’re the first person I tell.” She waves me on, “Be careful.” I catch the glimpse of one of the sweetest smiles I’ve seen on her face and I dart forward to ruffle her hair before sprinting into the airport before she can attack me. When I’m safely inside I glance over my shoulder, seeing her slide into the car laughing.

**To: Ymir**  
**Bye Bye dweeb**

**From: Ymir**  
**Farewell Cap’**

I smiled at the phone, loading up Skype and going through all the airport security rather quickly. Thank you airport gods.

**Robodt:**  
**Eeeey, just got to the airport and getting on plane in a few :D**  
**See you in 15 hours**

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**thats a fucking long flight freckles**  
**dont go insane**

**Robodt:**  
**I’ll try!**

I thought about trying to record the moments before getting on the plane but then considered the effort it would take just to pull out the camera and decided against not. I was in the process of shoving my shoes back on my feet when my phone vibrated again with a response from Jean.

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**You at least brought things to do right**

**Robodt:**  
**No I brought nothing, I’m that AMAZING**

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**tell me your kidding**

**Robodt:**  
**I’m kidding**

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**wait**  
**are you saying that to be nice**  
**or because you actually are kidding**  
**and you actually have shit**

**Robodt:**  
**I’ll leave that up to you**

I laughed out loud as the ‘jeanestpasuncheval is typing…’ popped up several times as he floundered. I sprinted towards the terminal checking my phone for time and nearly tripping over my feet plenty of times. I could see the woman checking tickets at the gate, they were almost done. At least I made it, I panted heavily, checking my phone one last time.

**JeanestpasunCheval:**  
**PUTAIN. DAMN YOU.**

France will be very entertaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Translations:_  
>  La tasse = the cup  
> espèce de con = you piece of shit  
> putain = Fuck  
> .
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!  
> I've been working hard on this, and I'm hoping to hold on to the motivation to continue on with it. I would love any critiques and comments your guys have - please don't be afraid to point out an mistakes or errors! (Especially in the French. I only know a little, so if you see something wrong, let me know?)
> 
> Never posted a fic before, so I hope this doesn't epically fail.  
> Hope you're liking it so far!! :3
> 
>  **EDIT:** ALRIGHT. OK. OOOOKAy. So this has been heavily updated and increased in size (just this chapter so far) by like 4 times it's original, the link to Jean's will still remain for the time being but just as a heads up, his has not been updated and will/might be confusing. The rest of Marco's will be revised before I actually update the next chapter. A lot of little details are missing and I apologize for taking so horrendously long on this, i'd like to say i'll be faster but I honestly don't see that happening. Thank you all for being so great and I REALLY appreciate the patience. SO MUCH. You have no idea how much. Also Happy New Year! c:


	2. I'm Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco can't hold it in anymore.
> 
> [ Jean's PoV ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1195209/chapters/2560681)
> 
> EDIT: Chapters will be out of sync until I can get to work on Jeans update! Just keep that in mind. You can see what kind of improvement i've made. Sort of... ish.

_You could be my unintended friend_   
_Remember our affection way back when_   
_Way back when_

\- Landon Pigg (Blue Skies)

* * *

  
Landings were always the worst in my opinion. The ear pop that never seemed to fade, and then the jostle as the wheels hit the ground. Although what was the best part of this was the landing. Knowing I was in France made everything easier to get through. Chewing gum helped too.

It didn’t take long for my phone to be on and I sent a text to my mom and Marci, letting them know I had landed safely and it was very dark. My phone was telling me it was about five in the morning. My body though knew it was time to sleep and making it to the baggage claim was a trick. My feet felt dead, any sleep on the plane did not keep me awake and the exhaustion was killing me. I had debated filming once I got off the plane, but I really didn’t think I would be able to manage holding up the camera and actually remaining awake enough to film.

I grabbed my bag from the mass of other traveler’s suitcases and glanced at my phone again. I should message Jean and see if he was even at the airport. I fumbled to open skype and walked over to a bench, slumping into the seat. Fifteen hour flights are too long. Don’t do them. Ever.

**Robodt:**  
**Hey man, landed and got my luggage. Are you still picking me up or nah**

It wasn’t even a moment later that there was a response.

**Jeanestpasuncheval:**  
**of course man im outside**  
**its cold and rainy**  
**and early**

Pushing myself up from the cold bench, I walked over to the exit and outside, the Parisian air hitting me and the scent of the fresh rain filling my nose. I smiled and took a quick glance around, recognizing the sandy mop of hair and scrawny outline of my friend. He was leaning against a rusty old car, the breeze ruffling his hair and loose tank top slightly.

He grinned and slammed a fist on the side of the van then walked over to me, grabbing one of my bags from me, “Bonjour.” I could feel a shiver racing down my spine and the lump growing in my throat. The accent was incredible in person and I probably looked dumb just standing there in awe for a moment. He tapped a fist on my shoulder and laughed “wake up freckles, let’s get your shit in the car.”

I glanced to the old van and saw someone opening the door, a short man shuffled out. His silver hair poked out of the beanie and he raised a hand in hello, some French slipping from his mouth but he must’ve still been asleep. All I caught was that his name was Connie. He aggressively fought with the van to get the trunk open, angrily muttering how it was such a piece of junk. It took him several tries to get the trunk to close before he finally slammed it shut, grabbed Jean’s shirt and pushed him over to the driver’s side.

I clambered in the back as Connie slid in the passenger side and instantly curled up and started snoring loudly. “I really don’t know why he wanted to come.” Jean laughed, “He’s just been sleeping the whole time.”

“Maybe he thought he would be more awake?” I questioned, looking towards the curled up ball that was Jean’s friend. “It is pretty early, thank you for picking me up.”

“De rien,” Jean turned the key in the ignition and the van spluttered, the rusty old thing seemed to cough and rattle as the engine started. Connie grumbled and shifted in his seat, fighting with the seatbelt before he settled again, his snoring continuing. “You’re welcome to sleep while I drive us back.”

There was a silence that filled the car as I contemplated sleeping, but I shook my head, “I think I’m going to try and stay up. Also is there a radio in this car?”

I could see Jean giving me a glance in the mirror and he snorted, “Good luck with that.” He pulled out of the airport, the van sounding like it was about to break down any minute. “There is a radio, but Connie is too cheap to fix it. I think the car would actually die if you turned it on.”

“It barely has life to start with.” I mumbled.

“Don’t let him hear you shooting down his car though. He adores this thing.” I could hear jean’s accent getting thicker on some words more than others and grinned. It was nerve wracking realizing I was sitting next to him after all our talks online. I watched his fingers drum along the steering wheel as he hummed a song in his head and I leaned back in the seat, the old cushions incredibly comfortable. I could see now how it had been so easy for Connie to fall asleep.

At some point I had closed my eyes and drifted off and now I had Connie poking my face. A fire was burning brightly in his eyes and the suns dim light was peeking out around the sides of the buildings. My door swung open and Jean sneered, “’I think I’m going to try and stay up’ my ass.” he made me think of one of my mother’s cats with his long legs and the canary eating smile.

“We should go to the café down the street.” Connie grinned, clambering over to my side with the open door and jumped out. I nearly got kicked in the face in the process, and I sat there for a moment before following suit and sluggishly got out of the car. Jean tossed one of my bags at me, my reflexes were still trying to catch up so I barely caught the strap before it plummeted to the ground.

Connie proudly led the way to the stairs and hopped up them at a speed I would not have expected for how grumpy and tired he was half an hour ago. I trudged up the stairs, my feet feeling like cinder blocks whenever I lifted them. I heard a yell from a floor up and then a pleased shriek, a sound that resembled ‘Connie’ and I glanced over my shoulder at Jean.

He shrugged and continued up the stairs, leading me to the open door and the two loud ones inside. “Sasha, why are you even awake?” Jean grumbled, dumping my things by the door. I heard the name Sasha and slipped through the door, my bag already dropping before I had an armful of tall brunette.

“MARCO.” She shrieked. I wrapped my arms around her waist and squeezed her. Both Jean and Connie looked fairly confused and she pulled back, a wide grin plastered on her face, her arm still wrapped around my neck, “you’re not the only one who likes him, gosh Jean.” She snickered and steered me into the small living room. “How was the flight?”

“Long.” I laughed, my voice portraying just how exhausted I was. She smiled and glanced at Connie, “the café is open right?”

He nodded vigorously and suddenly I was being swiveled back towards the door and the stairs. Jean barked something to which Sasha laughed. I stumbled down the stairs, Sasha’s hands keeping me steady as we moved. All my senses felt dull as I was pushed around, Jean tailing behind grumpily and Connie and Sasha chanting coffee as we walked down the empty streets.

It didn’t take us too long to get to the café, Sasha had released me when we had reached the bottom of the stairs and I hung back with Jean. Connie and Sasha had seemed to become louder as we got closer, while Jean and I stayed silent as we walked. Sasha led the way inside the little shop, sitting down at a booth in the corner while Connie went and ordered. “Marco, what do you like?”

“Uh, mocha?” I mumbled, realizing I hadn’t been able to even grab my wallet before I had been hustled out of the apartment.

“You got it man.” Connie grinned. He made eye contact with Jean and nodded, turning to the counter and started up a conversation with the woman. I still had my phone in my back pocket and pulled it out as I shuffled into the booth. I opened up skype and saw I had plenty of notifications from Ymir and Marci.

**໒( ᓀ ‸ ᓂ )७ boom bitch:**  
**did you land**  
**cause marci said u did**  
**and u didnt tell me u ass**

**MarSolo:**  
**I told ymir u landed**  
**was I not supposed to**  
**she seemed grumpy**

I smiled and shot a response to both and quickly got a response from Marci.

**MarSolo:**  
**So how’s france**  
**Actually no**  
**How**  
**Is**  
**Jean**

I glanced to my side and saw Jean leaning back in his seat, his head tipped back and eyes closed. Sasha had left the table to go talk to Connie while he waited for the drinks. She seemed to try to speak to the woman making the drinks but her French was incredibly broken so she had pursed her lips and glanced at Connie for help.

**Robodt:**  
**he’s sleepy**  
**so am i**

**MarSolo:**  
**nooooo, stay awake cap’ u can do it**

**Robodt:**  
**Mar I’m shuttin down**  
**I can’t**

**MarSolo:**  
**Titan thinks u can**

**Robodt:**  
**titan always thinks I can**  
**titan’s a believer**

**MarSolo:**  
**he’s either trying to eat me or**  
**he won’t stop licking me**  
**H e l p**

I laughed and took another glance at Jean and jumped a little when his tawny eyes looked back at me, his expression flat. “Who are you talking to?”

“My sister,” I mumbled, locking the screen and setting the phone on the table. It continued to buzz angrily and Jean frowned, giving a slight head nod towards the phone.

“Are you going to answer that?”

I glanced at the messages lighting up on the screen and shook my head, “Nah, she’s just complaining about the dog.”

Jean leaned across the table, his fingers scraping the edge of the phone and he pulled it over towards him. His eyes watched me cautiously, as if waiting for me to snatch the phone back, but when I showed no signs of opposition, he opened the phone and looked at the messages. “She seems like a handful.”

“Do you know what I mean if I say she’s like one of those high schoolers that think they’re the best, but they just started? And they’re really little.” I leaned back in the seat, watching as Jean’s scowl grew.

“I know the type.”

“She’s like that, except tone it down a few notches.” I explain, watching as Jean looks at the phone and then back to me, “She thinks very highly of herself.” Jean slid the phone back across the table into my hand.

“Are all the high schools in America like that one movie… what’s it called…?” Jean drummed his fingers along the table as his face scrunched up in thought, “uh… oh yeah! High school Musical? That’s what it’s called, right?”

I snorted out a laugh, biting my lip when Jean’s scowl somehow grew and shook my head, “No, oh my gosh. Maybe somewhere, but not where I went. No Sharpay’s to ruin people’s lives.”

“Well that’s disappointing.” His scowl softened into a pout and he leaned back. As if on que, Sasha and Connie came back right then, dropped our coffees in front of us and scrambled into the booth. “What’s disappointing?” Connie asked, stealing from Sasha’s pile of bagels in front of her. She frowned slightly as she shifted in the booth, pulling her feet beneath her but then pushed the plate in the center of the table.

“American high school isn’t bitchy,” Jean grumbled, his eyes following the movement of the plate.

“Okay, I never said it wasn’t bitchy. You just asked if it was like high school musical so I said no.” I corrected him and grabbed the cup in front of me, pulling it close, enjoying the warmth emanating from the mug. “No one busted out into song…. Wait. They did.”

Sasha squeaked and leaned forward, “You have to explain this now.”

I shrugged, “It’s not really all that interesting. There was a kid who was always asleep in class and it was getting close to graduation. I think something woke him up, but he woke up and just sang this one note, but instead of shrugging it off, it turned into a nice chorus in our astronomy class.”

Connie grinned, his bagel shoved in his mouth, “Was it pre-planned?”

“Not that I know of. Our astronomy class was full of theatre students.” I shrugged. It was totally possible that it had been pre-planned. It had felt way too scripted but then again, our school had been hella good at improvisation. I noticed Jean’s head nearly hit the table and he shifted in his seat, fumbling with the cup in his hands.

Sasha cleared her throat and I heard the sound of her boot hitting something and Jean yelped, pinning her with a glare. She grinned pleasantly as if she hadn’t just stabbed his leg with her heel, “So Marco, have you thought about what you’re going to do for your videos? Jean’s been talking non-stop about the collab you guys are going to do.”

Jean gaped at her, “I have not.”

Connie grinned as well, both of them looking positively evil across the booth, “You so have. Someone would guess he’s your boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah, he’s totally my boyfriend. I’ve known him for a whole week,” Jean leaned his head back with a huge groan. Sasha leaned back, a pleased smile spread across her lips and looked at me expectantly and I blinked, looking between them all. I could see a small pink tinge roll across Jean’s cheeks and snickered.

“I didn’t know we were dating.” I tried to make it sound as if I was playing along with the joke, but it came out squeakier than I planned. I swallowed and Jean jolt forward as he coughed, shaking his head violently.

“It was a joke.” He choked, Connie and Sasha shaking with laughter. Choosing to not help their friend, the two of them looked at me after they had calmed down from their laughing fit, waiting for a response to her initial question. I pat Jean on the back to try and help him with his coughing, and he eventually calmed down, and went back to sulkily drinking his coffee.

“I’m not sure what we’re going to do for a video. We haven’t really talked about it.” I answered, my voice level. Jean shot me a glance and swirled his coffee around in the mug. Connie and Sasha nudged each other, each sporting a shit-eating grin.

“Have you heard of innuendo bingo?” Sasha asked, pressing her elbows onto the table and resting her chin on her hands. I shook my head and her grin grew. “Basically, what you’d do is have clips, which Jean has by chance, of youtubers saying things in a completely normal situation that sound dirty.” She paused, waiting for any reaction before continuing. “But what makes it great, is that you have to hold water in your mouth, whoever doesn’t laugh the most wins.”

Jean leaned back in his seat and snorted, “How have you not heard of innuendo bingo?”

I shrugged and finished off my coffee, spinning the cup around in my hands, “I don’t know, no one I watch has ever done it.”

Jean snickered, “Ok we’re so doing that.”

“Sasha said you already have clips?” I squinted at him and a nervous smile cracked across his face, “why do you have those? Are you just like always prepared for an innuendo bingo video?”

“Well, yes and no. My viewers really wanted me to do it with Eren a while ago and they sent clips in massive waves. But Eren left France before we got to film it. So ergo, a lot of innuendo clips.” He glanced at his coffee and huffed, leaning back in his chair in defeat.

“Out of coffee, Jean-bo?” Sasha hummed, grabbing the last bagel sitting on the plate. Connie watched sadly as it made its trip into Sasha’s mouth.

“Well, we’ve got one out of the two video’s we’re doing. What’s our next one?” I asked, looking towards Jean as he hummed in thought. “I’m all for innuendo bingo, just by the way. Maybe we could do an accent challenge? Like the ones where you hold the cards on your forehead and the other person has to do the accent so they can guess it?”

Connie cackled, “Oh I’d kill to see that.”

“He’s actually good at accents,” Sasha nodded enthusiastically. I waved towards them and grinned, Jean’s face contorting into something of acceptance and discomfort.

“Yeah, sure. That could work. What accents are we doing?” Jean grinned, “I vote for American.”  
I snorted, “Alright but you at least have to break it up, there’s no general ‘American’ accent. Like you got to do New York and Minnesota.”

He laughed and nodded, “alright, sure. We could probably go back to the apartment and write it down. I’m still too tired to remember anything we say here.” Sasha agreed and pushed Connie out of the booth, telling us she was going to get another coffee to go and for us to head out without them. Jean and I nodded, shuffling out of the booth and walking back to the apartment, mostly in silence as we waiting for a caffeine boost to hit us.

* * *

 

“Con says he’ll be back in a minute or two and he can play the clips for us” Jean called as he grabbed some waters from the fridge. I nodded and sat down, twisting as he called out and managed to catch it. I say catch but it was more like swat it higher in the air and scramble for it. Jean sat down across from me already laughing at my amazing talent. He cracked the top of the water bottle off and then set it down next to his chair, hopping up to his feet and walking over to the camera. He messed with the angle a bit to his liking and then a mischievous grin split his lips, “you ready to lose?”

“Oh I’m totally winning, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I laughed. I looked over my shoulder as the door opened and Connie and Sasha strolled in, both with their coffees in their hands. Jean waved Connie over and showed him the clips on the laptop and started the recording. He came around and sat in his chair again, picking up his water bottle, “Play the clips out of order by the way.”

Connie winked and scrolled through the clips, sipping on his coffee nonchalantly, “Don’t worry I will, I’ve added some more for you too. I don’t know if you ever saw those.”

Jean gave him a hard stare as he took a little sip of his water, “I don’t trust you.” Connie gave a thumbs up and a shit eating grin. Jean sighed and instantly flashed a smile at the camera and I was already feeling out of my league. His smile was blinding. “Bonjour mon amies, welcome to the nightmare. Today I’ve the pleasure to sit next to-” Jean waved his hands over towards me and I stared at the camera for a moment before glancing at Jean who waited eagerly for me to say my stage name.

“Oh, uh, AmazingMarco.” I smiled, glancing back to the camera and waving awkwardly. Jean snorted and continued on. “Marco what are we doing today?”

I placed my palms together and rubbed them vigorously, grinning wide, “Today, we are going to play innuendo bingo.” I glanced to Jean and the camera again, the excitement welling up inside me, I was easily sliding into the calm I had when in front of a camera. “I am so excited, you have no idea. I had to have Jean explain it to me because I hadn’t heard of it. I’m so ready to get wet.”

Jean stared at me for a minute and quirked an eyebrow waiting for me to register what I had just said. As soon as it clicked I groaned loudly, “oh god no.”

“Well this will be entertaining.” he laughed, “I’ve never wanted to play it but shit, if freckles has never played it, we got to. It’s in the book of rules… and things. Of the interwebs. Basically, what we’re going to do is listen to clips that are taken out of context and sound dirty.” Jean wiggled his eyebrows, “And we are going to have our cheeks full of water, so if we laugh the other person gets a face full of it.”

“I’m totally loosing,” I shrugged, grabbing the water bottle and pulling it open.

“You don’t know that.” Jean snickered, grabbing his water bottle as well and shifted in his seat, “let’s get this show on the road.” We both loaded up with water and sat there for a moment with cheeks full of water and stared at each other. I tried to keep a stony expression but it didn’t help that Jean was already trying to make me laugh by crossing his eyes. I snorted a little and took a deep breath to hold in the water, glancing at Connie so I wasn’t paying attention to Jean.

The first clip played, and it wasn’t at all what I was expecting to hear. My voice came through the speakers, “Oh wow, you’re huge! I mean look at that length!” there was a deep hum and then I picked up Reiner’s voice which sounded out of breath, “Yeah, he’s pretty thick.”

I glanced at Jean and saw his cheeks pink and he was snickering, trying to contain his laughter. I knew the exact video this was relating to, but I wasn’t sure if he did. The clip at this exact moment had a deep moan from Reiner, that was really him panicking the fuck out as the snake we were looking at slid up his arm, but the moan sounded downright sinful and I was suddenly getting a shower as Jean spit all the water in my face.

Jean was curled over, coughing violently, and I spit out my water laughing lightly. Jean let out a disgusted gasp and my laughing grew in intensity as I realized I had spit my water out all over his back. He pulled himself upright and groaned as he set his back against the chair, “this is already gross.”

I shook my head vigorously, my hair already pretty wet from Jean spraying it in my face. He cried out again and barked, “No! Stop! You wet dog!” I grinned and loaded up with water again, chuckling as Jean grumpily did the same, pinning me with a glare.

He set his water down and squinted at me, leaning forward with his cheeks puffed out. Connie wasted no time in playing the next clip, “Oh my gosh, I’m nervous.” there was a small pause and me and Jean looked at each other as the audio continued, “this is my first time doing this with you”, I wiggled my eyebrows and a little fountain of water squirted from his lips. His shoulders shook and his brows furrowed in an attempt not to laugh.

I recognized Bert’s voice, “does this hurt?”

“It feels kind of painful but at the same time it’s-“ I couldn’t pinpoint the voice but it sounded familiar and I had to glance away from Jean as I laughed a little, managing to hold on to the water in my mouth.

“really smooth?” Bert cut in.

“yeah it’s interesting”

“All I want is to not make you bleed” I snorted and ducked as Bert said his line, bursting into laughter and dropping all the water on the ground, although most of it probably hit Jean’s legs. A wetness spread down the nape of my neck and back and I could hear Jean’s laughter.

“AH! Jean, I’m so wet.” I pouted, rising up and looked at Jean as he giggled again, nearly dropping his water bottle. Jean waved frantically to his pants and wiggled in his seat.

“I am sO UNCOMFORTABLE.” He yelled, grabbing his water and loading up again anyways. I grabbed mine and tapped the bottle against his and took a drink of it. Both of us looked over at Connie and gave a thumbs up, waiting for the next one.

“Oh Jean, you’ll like this one.” Connie chuckled, “Eren and Thomas.”

Jean nodded slowly, a grin pulling across his lips as Thomas voice started off.

“Do you want to be bottom or top?” I could hear Jean’s snicker and a little dribble of water slipped out and ran down his chin.

What I assumed was Eren’s voice answered, “Oh, bottom, definitely bottom.” there was a pause for a moment before, “ow… OW, OW. That hurt!” I spit out my water directly onto Jean’s face and he had done the same, and I recoiled as some of the water was shot back into my mouth and nose.

“Oh come on man, me and my mom did this all the time, it can’t be that bad. You just gotta….” There was a grunt and another protest from Eren, but we were still laughing, or more likely choking as we tried to catch our breath.

I didn’t last very long this time as I took a gulp of water as Jean puffed out his cheeks like a chipmunk and leaned forward, his nose coming impossibly close to mine and I took in the state of his hair, lying flat on his forehead and sticking every direction in the back from when he previously messed with it. I made eye contact and saw his smirk before he furrowed his brows, and I snorted. I lost it. The water, I mean. It went everywhere.

He was hit with the full force of it in his face, the rest of it dribbling down his front and onto his shirt. I was cracking up and leaned back and suddenly I was sprayed with his load of freezing water, all of it drenching my shirt and I shivered, nearly falling backwards in my chair from rocking back and forth trying to calm my giggles.

“I’m sorry, but your face!” I managed to choke out between my gasps of laughter.

Connie cut in that it was the last clip and then a shit eating grin spread across his lips, “wait, I know exactly what clip I want.” Jean squinted at him and Connie cackled, waiting until we were ready to play it. Jean was incredibly hesitant, giving Connie a nervous look the entire time he loaded up.

As soon as Jean set the bottle down Connie pressed play. I recognized the voiced laced with an incredibly thick French accent, “oh don’t, that’s disgusting” Jean coughed and turned, aiming to spit out all the water and I sat in silence with my eyes clenched shut.

“It’s so warm in here!” there was a pause, “wait, is it warm in yours?”

There was a sound of a struggle and then, “No! Stop it! Get your fucking hand out of my pumpkin” I coughed out my water straight onto Jean’s shirt, laughing as he scrunched his face up, pulling his drenched shirt away from his skin. Jean’s voice sounded again from the clip, “Get your hand out of my pumpkin, Eren”

“Oh, yours feels good” the clip ended and I noticed Connie’s laughter and he left his space from behind the camera to go grab towels. Jean looked at the camera, looking like a sad wet dog and I could feel every item of clothing sticking to my body. My shirt had been dark colored, but Jean’s was white and very see through. He was extremely toned beneath the t-shirt, and I could see the tattoo spreading across his side.

A towel was thrown at me unexpectedly, and I grunted, catching it and trying to dry my hair any. I ran my hand threw it and draped the towel around my shoulders. Connie walked up behind Jean with a water bottle in hand, his finger pressed to his lip when I caught his eye. The bottle was emptied over Jean’s head, completely drenching him and plastering his hair to his forehead. If I thought he looked sad before, nothing compared to now. I laughed again and jean twisted, grabbing the bottle and dumping anything left on my head.

Laughing, I tried fixing my hair, mainly pulling it from my eyes. Jean did the same, and dropped his towel on the floor, laughing hard. “Well, I’m fucking soaked.” He glanced at the camera and released his blinding smile again, “Wait, wait… get ready.” He reached for the neckline of his shirt and tried to pull it off, but the shirt clung to him and he grunted. “FUCK. This was not as sexy as I was hoping for.”

“Were you going for a sexy dance? In shirt form?” I asked, easily taking my soaked shirt off. The perks of button ups. A muffled yes came back in reply and I snorted, “Do you want help?” Jean scoffed and tried with the shirt again, flailing as he struggled. He eventually got it, the shirt dropping to the floor next to the towel and effectively messing up Jean’s hair even more.

“I think it’s safe to say that I won.” Jean grinned and I shrugged. Jean looked me up and down and then frowned, “or lost…” Running a hand through his hair a crooked smile graced his lips, “nah I totally won.”  
Connie chose to chime in from behind us, “totally lost.”

Jean glared at him and grabbed his shirt, tossing it at Connie, who dodged it, letting the soaked shirt slap against the wall. “No sexy dance today, I think it would be too much…” he winked at the camera and Connie and Sasha roared with laughter from the kitchen. Jean resisted a scowl and continued on, “If you liked watching us get soaked click the like button and if you want to watch some of Marco’s videos, which you totally should, click on his face, or the link in the description below.” We both pointed down and Jean continued, grinning, “Also he’s going to be here for what, like a year?” He looked at me and I took it as a queue to start talking.

“Yeah! I’m going to be here for a year doing some fun art school things!” I chirped, smiling brightly and Jean leaned over, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me in next to him.

“So make sure you subscribe to me if you aren’t already and go check out Marco and subscribe to him. We did a video over on his channel too and I think we effectively managed to murder every accent.”

“Well, I did, you were pretty good.” I sighed. Jean ruffled my hair and snickered.

“You were pretty good yourself, freckles. Thanks for watching. À la prochaine, mon amies.” Jean said his goodbye and let me go, getting up and ending the recording. He grinned at me, “Very nice freckles.

I smiled, his praise filling me with pride, “Well that was fun.” I fiddled with my wet shirt and Jean left the camera, walking around the couch to grab his drenched shirt. “I might have a shirt you can borrow while these dry if you want?” Jean mumbled, walking over to the doors that led to the tiny balcony if you could even call it that, resting the shirt against the railing. I shrugged and accepted his offer, following after him when he walked into his room, burrowing into his closet and then tossed me a shirt.

I held it up, looking at the pattern on the front and frowned, “Who is Stromae?”

Jeans head poked out from the closet, his eyes narrowed while he looked at me, “who’s Stromae?” He asked slowly, “you’re kidding me.” He grabbed the shirt back and shook his head, “I can’t believe you don’t know Stromae. You don’t deserve this shirt.” I laughed at his reaction and caught another shirt he tossed me. A plain grey t-shirt that when I pulled over my head proved to be quite tight but still fit.

He pulled a shirt over his head and glanced at me, frowning for a minute before he shut the closet doors and ushered me back into the living room. “Sit.” He ordered, waving towards the couch and he pulled his laptop closer, pulling up what looked like Spotify and started playing something.

I sat and listened to the song as Jean moved around the apartment, grabbing a USB and a connector for the camera. He plopped back down on the couch next to me, shooting a glance at me as if to see if I was enjoying the song. I smiled and nodded in response and a grin split his lips. He went back to work hooking up the camera to the laptop and getting the videos imported, and then he stuck the video meant for my channel on the USB and handed it to me.

“Here,” I took the USB from him and turned it over in my hands for a minute before getting up and slipping it into my bag. “Did you need to get settled into your uh… wherever it is your staying? You do have a place right?”

I laughed lightly and nodded, I could feel the heaviness in my bones from the lack of sleep and bit back a yawn, “Yeah, yeah I do. I told them I’d be there today around um, 2.” I picked up my phone and glanced at the time, sighing, “So in twenty minutes.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Yeah, getting there is the big question.” I hummed, “uh here,” I found the address I had written down and flashed the screen at him. He stood up from the couch and walked over, glancing at it and nodded, “I know where that is, I can escort you if you’d like? It’s not far.”

I nodded, a sigh of relieve escaping me as he said it wasn’t far. My feet felt like they were made of lead, I wasn’t sure I would be able to stay awake when I got there. I yawned again and Jean laughed, “Try to stay awake.” He lightly punched my shoulder and grabbed one of my bags. “We can walk there.”

Ignoring my groan, Jean grabbed another one of my bags and handed it to me, calling out to Connie that they were leaving, in which a response of ‘I don’t care’ was shot back. Jean snorted and opened the door, waving me through before leading the way down the stairs and out into the streets.

* * *

 

Luckily Jean was right and the building wasn’t far. The apartment was supposed to be on the 3rd floor and I felt like crying while walking up the steps. Sleeping tonight would definitely be easy. We got to the floor and I noticed the older woman standing outside one of the apartment doors. She was sticking a key into the lock and I smiled, “Bonjour Madame”

Her head turned and she smiled, “Bonjour Marco, how was the flight?” She asked, trying to talk in English but it was slow and choppy. I commended her attempt though.

“Magnificent, mais trés longue.” She smiled and finally opened the door and gestured for me to enter, and slid back into talking French, her speech much faster than Jean’s and I nodded looking at Jean in a slight panic. He chuckled softly and slipped in, his hands tucked into his jeans pocket as he spoke to her. I felt bad for not being able to carry on a full conversation, but admittedly my French wasn’t up to that level and keeping up with their speech was proving difficult.

The woman started heading towards the door and I jogged over, smiling brightly. “Marco, I will bring Henry on Thursdays, merci beaucoup. Enjoy.” She placed the keys in my hand and left, bidding us a good afternoon as she shut the door behind her.

“What was she saying?” I asked Jean quietly, my eyes roaming over the little studio apartment. The kitchen was small, only a few counters wide and a little small yellow refrigerator sat tucked in the corner.  
“take care of the apartment, she’s glad you’re teaching her kid shit, you seem nice, she’ll be here next Thursday to give you time to settle in.” Jean shrugged, watching me as I looked around the place, “Also don’t burn it down. She didn’t say that bit, but it felt implied.”

I snorted and walked over to the wide doors that lit up the apartment and led out onto the small balcony. I pointed it out to Jean, snickering, “It’s bigger than yours.” He scoffed and set the bags down by the door, leaving me to explore.

I pulled open the doors to the balcony and hummed as the breeze flew in, pushing my hair back from my face. I slid down to the floor and leaned against the frame, enjoying the Parisian air push past me. Tilting my head back I closed my eyes and pushed my legs out, kicking off my shoes and pushed my toes into the other side of the frame. I knew I still had to unpack all my clothes and extra things I brought, but I was enjoying the peace and quiet too much at the moment. I could easily see myself setting up a bunch of pillows on the small balcony and just sitting out here for hours.

Something jolted my foot and I groaned, pulling my feet towards me. I heard Jean’s hum as he lowed himself to the frame across from me, coffee cradled in his hands. He handed me a cup of my own and I hummed softly, taking the mug from him.

“Found the coffee maker. You just going to sleep out here?” Jean muttered in French and I grinned, enjoying how easily the language flowed off his tongue and how easily I could understand him. Probably because he spoke slower. Whether he was doing it on purpose or not I wasn’t sure, but I was glad. He tapped my foot again and I nodded in response, pulling my coffee closer to me. I really was tempted to sleep but I knew if I went to bed now, I wouldn’t really be ‘adapting’ to the time here. I still had a few more hours to go before it would be a logical time to sleep. Not at five in the afternoon.

“It is nice out here. You’ve got a nice view.” I cracked open my eyes and looked at the view again and smiled. He wasn’t lying. I had a balcony overlooking a little area of local shops, a bakery across the narrow street and a flower shop next to it. My smile grew and I closed my eyes again taking a sip of my coffee.

“I’m going to be out here all the time.” I whispered, my voice sounded weak and I gripped my coffee tighter, leaving the rim pressed to my lips, my smile still plastered to my features.

“You should put some pillows out here if you plan to do that,” Jean laughed. I opened my eyes again and took a glance at him, still in slight disbelief that I was in France and he was sitting across from me. Marci would be having conniptions if she knew how close we were getting after only a day of hanging out and she wasn’t getting her hourly updates.

Taking my eyes off Jean, I glanced to where he was looking and noticed my view also extended across the rooftops, providing me with a great view of the sun set against the skyline. I was glad my apartment was on one of the higher floors, I could see how the clouds shifted into the beautiful light red and purple color as it descended into night.

I was definitely going to be out here a lot. I wouldn’t have a lack of inspiration on this tiny balcony.

I shot a look inside the apartment, slowly looking across the small studio and I could feel my smile grow if that was possible. The bed sat in the corner, looking fairly empty at the moment, only a few pillows covering it and the blankets white, crisp and untouched. A divider was placed beside the door leading to the bathroom and the living room space. The tattered old, midcentury couch was next to the fireplace which stood out from the rest. Its brick had obviously been cared for overtime, the red and brown standing out against the clean, fresh white walls all around it.

It wasn’t much but I curled up closer, feeling Jean’s eyes on me as I sighed happily. It was going to be mine for a year. It already felt more like home to me than the one in Seattle did. I had worked for this. I wasn’t mooching off of one of my friends for a room. All of this was mine and it was breathtaking.

Taking another deep breath, I inched my way up the door frame and stood up, finishing up the last of my coffee. I could still feel Jean’s eyes on me and I walked towards the tiny kitchen around the corner, setting my mug down in the sink and running water in it. His feet padded across the wood and I turned towards him as he rounded the corner. “You going to start unpacking now?” he asked, keeping his mug pressed to his chest as if I would steal it away from him to wash it.

“Yeah I think so.” I glanced at the bags in the entry and put my hands on my hips letting out puff of air. “You want to stick around?”

Jean chuckled and shrugged, “I said I would help you unpack, I don’t see why I’d leave now.”

“Even if I put on a movie?”

His eyes narrowed and he took a step back slowly, an eyebrow raised in question, “what movie are we talking about here?” His eyes followed me as I walked over to my stuff and I grabbed the duffel bag and walked around the corner, he let out a small grunt and then I heard him pick up the backpack and follow after me.

“Will you stay for a movie or not?” I snickered, shooting him a devilish grin over my shoulder and I could see his face pale.

“I guess so, although I’m worried, your face tells me I should fucking run.”

I let out a bark of laughter and toss the duffel on the bed and reach out for the backpack he’s holding. Nervously he handed it over and I pulled him towards the bed, as I walked over to the TV and blessed the family that they had let me have one of their old DvD players. This sure was one nice family I was renting the studio from. I popped in the tangled disk and let it start up, tossing the backpack on the bed.

It only took a few minutes for the previews to hit and Jean was pinning me with an extremely irritated glare. If daggers could shoot from eyes, I would have a billion little ones all into my side. Never the less, I was grinning ear to ear as the Disney previews rolled, making a quick mental note for myself that I still needed Cinderella on blue-ray.

“I don’t mind Disney, but Marco I swear if this is beauty and the beast, I’m gonna bolt and you’ll never fucking hear from me again.”

I snorted and shook my head, unzipping the duffel. “No, but why the hate for Beauty and the Beast? It’s so cute.” I squinted at him and leaned over towards him, “are you immune to cute?”

He scoffed and leaned away from me, his eyes darting away, “No, just… my sister really loved that movie and wouldn’t ever stop playing it.” He spat, glaring at the corner and running his finger along the coffee cup slowly.

I took a mental note that he has a sister and nodded, “I’ll make a note that you don’t like cute movies.” I’ll have to ask him about the sister later. He never talks about her. Or any family for that matter.

His eyes shot to mine and I bit back my laugh at his massive pout. “I never said I don’t like cute movies… I just… d-don’t like that one.” I walked over to the dresser and yanked the duffel over towards me and hummed in acknowledgement and he groaned, “No, it’s true.”

“Ok, name one cute movie you like.” I teased, starting to pull out some of my clothes and organizing them in the drawers.

“Um… give me-“

“Cat caught your tongue?”

“S-shut up, Freckles.” He growled, watching as the main menu finally came up and he blanched, “Tangled? I haven’t seen this one.”

I quickly went over and started the movie and walked back to the bed, “well you’re in for a god damn treat.” I cackled softly as Jean’s jaw dropped and he looked back at the TV, slowly pushing himself back against the wall and setting up the pillows to get more comfortable. “Weren’t you going to help me unpack?”

He shrugged, and a lopsided smile spread across his face, “You seem like you got it, and if I’m in for a ‘god damn treat’ then I’m going to fucking pay attention to this.” He looked proud of himself and I groaned, diving back into unpacking my clothes, softly singing the first song to myself.

It doesn’t take me long to get my clothes into the small dresser. I hadn’t brought much in the first place, and then I noticed my backpack resting by the bed. I pulled it over to the corner and plugged in my laptop before settling in next to Jean against the wall of pillows. I snickered as one of my favorite songs came on. Leaning into his side my grin split into something demonic, “Why, Jean, you want to go outside?”

He looked at me with a raised eyebrow and then slightly leaned back as I ran a finger under his chin, “look at you, as fragile as a flower.” He pouted and slapped my hand away, his eyes falling back to the movie and he barked at me as I pat him on the head, “Still a little sapling…just a spout.”

“Alright you can stop now.” Jean glared at me and I denied the little bubble of laughter daring to escape. Gotta stay in character.

“You know why we stay up in this tower.” As soon as he opened his mouth to try and get me to shut up I barreled on, “that’s right. To keep you safe and sound yes,” I dramatically leaned into his shoulder, falling into his lap as he tried to pull away. “Guess I always knew this day was coming.” I gestured wildly to the apartment, nearly hitting Jean in the face, “Knew that soon you’d want to leave the mast.” Jean pouted at the TV, a little dimple appearing as he tried to fight off his smile.

“Soon, but not yet,” I reached up again and pat his cheek a couple time, “trust me… pet. Mother knows best!”

I was then roughly shoved off the bed and Jean was choking. “Ok freckles, you’re done with your little musical. Sing along all you want but stop petting me!” He laughed, shoving me off again as I tried to climb back up, my sides splitting with laughter.

He fought with me through the rest of the song, determined to keep me on the floor and away from his face where I could potentially stroke his face again, despite my attempts to promise him I wouldn’t do it again. It finally ended with me sitting on the floor with his legs draped over my shoulders and arms and chin resting on my head.

As soon as Flynn helped Rapunzel escape, of course Jean’s first reaction was, “Please tell me she trips and can no longer sing.”

I snorted and he swat my face quickly when Flynn started trying to get rid of her. “Ok, he’s my favorite. I like him, what’s his name again?”

“Oh my god, you can’t even remember his name?” I gasped, twisting to look at him. Jean quickly grabbed my face and turned it back to the TV and rested his chin back on my head. “It’s Flynn Rider, goodness Jean.”

I could feel Jeans laugh and I smiled until he opened his mouth, “You totally want in his pants.” I choked on air and swatted his leg and he cackled, “Nailed it.”

“Just watch the movie Jean.” I retorted, my voice annoyingly soft.

* * *

It didn’t take long to tell Jean was very engrossed into the movie because he basically melted onto me, and he kept making comments about Flynn and Rapunzel and how they should just kiss already, and that if the movie didn’t end with a kiss he was going to kill someone. This outburst was of course made after the lovely boat ride after the floating lights ceremony. He had been gripping my shoulder so hard I thought I was going to faint.

And then of course Flynn didn’t kiss her and Jean nearly screamed, a little high pitched screech coming out his mouth and I started laughing so hard I messed up the comforting position we had been in. Jean quickly grabbed me and wrestled me back into place, his legs wrapped firmly around my chest.

I could feel my eyes growing weary and when I leaned back I felt the hum reverberate through Jean’s chest and closed my eyes, just listening to the music and voices, being able to picture exactly what was happening. Maybe Marci was right, I watch this movie too much.

“Please tell me he’s not going to….. No, Rapunzel don’t you DARE.” Jean gasped in shock as she sacrificed her life for the dying Eugene. And then the scream of outrage as Eugene cut her hair. I snickered a little at the string of emotions probably going through Jean right now.

“Marco. Marco please tell me you’re not asleep.” Jean pat my cheek and I grunted. “Marco, he’s not dead right.”

“Watch the movie Jean,” I hummed, and got another sharp pat to the cheek.

“Marco the music is sad and I didn’t get my kiss…“ I could only imagine that right about now the place where her tear had dropped had started glowing. Jean fell silent and I held back my laughter as he started chanting for a reunion kiss.

And he said he wasn’t a fan of Disney movies.

I started fading out, catching the sound of the music picking up and Jean groaning at something about how happy everyone was, to which I promptly responded with what I hoped was a displeased grunt.

 

When I woke up I was back on the bed in the fortress of pillows and Jean’s face was next to mine, his body curled up next to me. I slowly pulled myself away from the bed and shuffled my feet over into the kitchen, pulling out a few things from our shopping trip yesterday. I snooped through the cabinets as quietly as I could, finally finding the pan I had borrowed from Jean and set it on the stove and let it start heating it up.

I started cooking a couple of the eggs, deciding to do one scrambled and one fried. While they cooked I quickly went and started getting some coffee going, remembering how he had been when he picked me up. And Sasha’s helpful advice to never let him be coffee-less when he wakes up. I pulled out some bread and slapped butter on it and frowned realizing I didn’t have any jam or even a toaster. Setting the ‘not toast’ down on a plate, I shuffled the eggs onto either plate and set them on the counter.

I poked my head around the corner and saw Jean had moved over to the space I had been a few minutes prior, face down and spread out across the bed. I snorted and walked over to the dresser, grabbing some fresh clothes and went to the bathroom to change. I tossed the old clothes in the makeshift hamper I had and walked back into the other room. I shuffled onto the bed and poked Jean, “hey… wake up. I made food.”

A deep groan was the response I got and Jean curling further into his blanket fortress. “I have coffee.” I tried again, seeing Jean’s head poke out from the blanket and crack an eye open.

“Do I have to get up?” His voice was thick and heavy with sleep and I barked out a laugh, crawling off the bed and padding back over to the kitchen.

“I suppose I could bring it to you. Since you had such a tough time last night with Flynn Rider.” I poured some of the coffee into mugs and grabbed one, expertly balancing the plates on my arm and grabbed the other cup.

“Shut up, he’s handsome. And I didn’t expect him to die.” Jean’s voice called.

“He said at the beginning in a dramatic voice that it’s the story of how he died!” I laughed, hissing as the movement caused a plate to teeter and coffee to spill on my hand. This would’ve been so much easier with a tray… or taking two trips but eh, why would I do that. I finally made it to the bed and grunted at Jean to take his coffee and he gripped it, and grabbed the plate with the fried egg.

“Thanks man. Seriously though, I wasn’t expecting lion king part two.”

I sat on the bed and stared at him incredulously. “That was in no comparison to the terrible death of Mufasa.”

He shrugged, “Think about it! Seeing the love of your life die right in front of you knowing you could do something about it? And then they refuse it? That’s terrible.” He took a sip of his coffee and let out a pleased sigh, “what would’ve been worse if she just found him dead or something, without knowing what he did.”

Something in my gut squeezes and I sit there in silence momentarily before defending the epic scenario that was the Lion King, “As terrible as it is,” I waved my fork in Jean’s face, “Flynn came back to life. Mufasa didn’t. Simba had to live with the guilt of killing his father. That’s 10 times worse.”

Jean opened his mouth to combat my logic but then frowned, grumpily taking a bite of eggs and taking another sip of his coffee. He swallowed and glanced at his eggs and then back at me, “These are really good.”

“Oh, thanks.” I smiled, taking a bite of my own eggs. I wasn’t sure where he got his eggs before because they weren’t really that fantastic. They would’ve been a lot better with some feta cheese in them. Someone’s phone buzzed and I glanced around, suddenly aware that I had no clue where I put my phone. Jean pulled his out from his back pocket and groaned.

“I’m going to have to go after I finish these. Ma mére needs help at the shop.” He unceremoniously shoved another bite of eggs in his face and I laughed softly, picking at the bread crust.

“What does she do?” I asked, peeling the crust from the bread.

“She runs a little coffee shop in Bruz.” He said, downing his coffee in one go. “Apparently her barista for today was running a fever so she wants me to fill in.”

“You can do that?”

“Yes?” He raised a brow and shuffled off the bed, walking over to the kitchen and dropping his plates in the sink and quickly rinsing them.

“Sorry, I just didn’t imagine you being a barista,” he glared at me over his shoulder and I raised my hands in surrender, “sorry, sorry, I’m sure you’re great at it. With your love of coffee and all,” I tripped over my words, deciding to shove a fork full of eggs into my mouth instead.

“Merci.” He grunted, getting his shoes on. “Let me know if you need any help around Rennes if you go out.” He stood up and I got up as well, walking to the kitchen and placing the plate in the sink as well, setting the coffee down next to the sink.

“Ok, thanks for the help.”

“I did shit and you know it,” His reply came with a grin, one I found contagious as I grinned back, ushering him towards the door.

“Don’t keep your mom waiting.”

“Oh yeah, Connie wanted to know if you’d come with us to this pub downtown tonight?” I chewed my lip for a second and then nodded slowly he snickered again, “I’ll be fun.”

“Alright, I’m trusting you.”

Jean winked and took a couple steps back towards the door, “A horrible decision really.” He was quoting Flynn Rider. Oh dear. What have I done to myself?

“Get out, just get out.” I said while laughing and pressing against his shoulders to get him out. He cackled as I pushed him out and shut the door behind him, offering him a quick goodbye as he waved over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this chapter! I have too much fun writing these (if that's even possible!)  
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments btw, you guys are too sweet!! ^u^
> 
> Now to finish up Jeans PoV ehuehuehue
> 
> EDIT: Ok, so this is now twice the length with more Springles aaaand some tangled. As funny as this will sound; i'm actually pleased with how quick i got this update out. Didn't take me 2 years for this one. hAH. See i'm hilarious. I can joke.


	3. A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And cue the angst.
> 
>  
> 
> [ Jean's PoV ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1195209/chapters/2817280)

_Have you ever found something_   
_That you didn't even know you were looking for?_   
_An answer_   
_Though you didn't hear the question_

-Studio Killers (Who’s in Your Heart Now?)

* * *

I gave the bike beneath Jean a uncomfortable stare, not trusting the thing with an inch of my life. Sure Jean was the one controlling the mechanical beast, but what if-

“It’s not going to kill you. Get on.” Jean growled, as if reading my thoughts.

“I know… just…” I muttered. I couldn’t think of a reason to not ride the bike. Why couldn’t he just have a car.

“What?”

“What do I hold onto?” I observed, the back seat of the motorbike having nothing to grab and hold for any balance. I swung my leg over the back, sitting down on the leather cushion, pinning the back of Jean’s neck with a nervous gaze.

“Me.” He laughed, his fingers turning the key in the ignition, the bike ripping to life and rumbling beneath us. “You sleep ok? You seem fucking tired.”

I tugged on my helmet before reaching forward and grabbing his shirt. I didn’t seem like much to hold onto, but I doubt he wanted me to wrap my arms around his torso. “Yeah, slept like the dead. Just a long day.” I was kinda looking forward to spending it just drawing in my notebook or watching movies with Jean. I hadn’t prepared for a night out in town.

“You’re going to want to hold on more than that Freckles.” His hands tightly gripped my hands, tugging them around his torso, planting my chest firmly against his back.

“Wha-! Oh… ok.” He released my hands and I automatically tightened my grip as the bike was kicked into motion, the wind picking up around me and trying to pull me off of Jean’s structure. My fingers gripped handfuls of his shirt, pulling myself closer to him and I placed my head on his shoulder grounding my chin into his skin. I was determined to feel like I wasn’t about to get blown off the satan bike.

I figured maybe the bike couldn’t be that bad after a while.

I was so horrifically wrong.

He kept making tight turns as if to make fun of me. Every single time my knee would almost touch the ground. Each time my hold on him would tighten, I was starting to scratch at his sides to try and get a better hold. I felt bad that I was probably causing him so much discomfort but _holy_ , he could at least slow down!

* * *

“Marco, you doing ok?”

His voice was muffled from his helmet but I could still hear him. The roar of the wind wasn’t covering it anymore, but the soft purr of the engine could still be heard. “Mhm.” I hummed, just barely enough that he heard me. I think.

He let out a chuckle and the light turned green. I clung to him as he made he turn into a parking spot, quickly cutting the engine of the beast. I couldn’t bring myself to let go of him. It was barely a ten minute ride over here, but probably the most life-threatening ten minutes of my life.

“You can let go now Marco, we’re here.” he teased, his hands patting mine.

“Oh. Right.” I uncurled my fingers from the fistfulls of his shirt and pulled off my helmet. I tried to casually step off the bike with a kind of lanky grace, but that went horribly wrong as my foot snagged of the edge of the seat and I nearly tumbled headfirst into the sidewalk. I set the stupid reflective helmet down on the seat and watched as Jean dismounted the monstrosity with practiced ease.

He set his helmet down and walked over to pay for the parking, pulling out his phone and checking messages. I glanced at the bar in front of us and smiled. It was a little place, nestled between two other stores. I could hear the music pounding from outside though. I doubt the stores appreciated the booming music and drunks late at night.

“You good with booze Marco?”

I glanced over to him, quickly following into stride behind him as he walked inside the bar. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting my gaze. I blinked at him. “Wait. You’ve never drunk before?”

“Nope.”

His expression morphed into one of skepticism, “So you’re, twenty-one, and you’ve haven’t consumed any alcohol before?”

I nodded, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Don’t you get to drink when you’re twenty one in America?”

“Yes.”

“-And you didn’t?”

“No. Why is this so shocking to you?” I understood to a point why it was. He probably grew up drinking wine and all this other alcohol. My mom was the conservative type, the type of mom that made sure alcohol was never an option to find in the house.

“Well, I just-” He sighed, his eyes darting around the pub until he spotted someone. I followed his gaze, spotting Connie and Sasha, happily chatting away with the bartender, wide smiles on their faces. “Nevermind. I’ll just have to watch you. No way am I missing you getting wasted for the first time.”

I shot him a look of disbelief, “What makes you think I’m gonna get wasted?”

I barely heard his response over the rumble of the beat of the music, “just you wait.”

When we got closer to the bar, Sasha spun around in her chair, a wide grin on her lips, “Jeeeeeen!” Her feet were unsteady and she teetered over to us, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her. “How are you jeeny boy?”

I bit back a laugh at how she said his name, he hated that pronunciation with a burning passion.

“Eur, fine, thank you.” He looked up from her choke hold in hopes of help from Connie. He took a rather huge gulp of his beer, drinking the rest down with speed.

“Sasha, release the man! Come on. He’s not food.” I wasn’t sure how long they’d been here already, but Connie was already sporting a heavy slur, his normally faint accent now thick as he spoke. He hopped off his stool, not as unsteady as Sasha, but his feet dragging as he pulled at her hips. “We’ll be back later.” he grumbled, dragging her away.

Jean slid into the vacant seat and pulled me into the one next to him, “Relax man. Here.” He ordered, pushing the beer in my direction, grabbing the other one and providing me with a smug expression. He brought the cup up to his lips, taking a sip and setting it down. He rested his elbow on the bar and kept his smug expression pinned on my face, giving me an encouraging nod.

I looked down nervously at the beverage in my hand, _what could possibly go wrong?_

Famous last words.

I grimaced as the liquid traveled down my throat. I don’t even know how to describe it. It was just a sharp sting as it went down, with a strange kind of afterburn. It wasn’t totally disgusting, but wow it did not taste good. I noticed Jean taking another drink, so I tried again, taking another gulp, much larger than the first attempt.

Nope. This did not get any better.

“What makes you think I’m gonna want more of these?” I grumble, staring down into the offending drink.

“You have a sister right?”

“Yeah…”

“Macy?”

“Marci.” I corrected him. This was getting random, but I barely noticed that I was taking another drink until the weird sensation was happening again in my throat.

“How old was she again?”

“Sixteen.”

He nodded, swishing his drink around before taking a sip, “You don’t really talk much about her.”

I tried doing the same to my drink and took a drink. No change, except the slight burn was starting to vanish, “You never really asked.”

“Tell me about her then, Marco.”

I wasn’t really sure where he was trying to go with this but I talked anyways, telling him about how she was a lot like me, the cluster of freckles across her face a replica of mine, how she was shorter than me, how we told each other everything when we were younger. He helped keep the conversation going after that, asking about what we talked about, to which I replied with telling him about a previous relationship and any high school drama that happened.

I droned on about random details failing to notice whenever my drink was replaced. I had very quickly started to notice the dull buzz in the back of my skull starting somewhere near my second drink. “And then there was one night-” The bartender set a drink down near me, taking the current beverage from me. I stared blankly at the edge of my new glass, loosing the train of thought I had before the refreshment arrived.

Jean lightly pushed the glass towards me, “Go on.”

“What was I talking about?”

“Uh. Your dreams. Marci.” he mumbled, taking a slow sip of his drink. How many had _he_ had?

“Oh.” I looked at my drink, trying to remember how many drinks we had both had. I had lost track of time and he was clearly not trying to restrain me on my intake.

A slight panic hit me though when his words echoed back in my head, ‘your dreams’. I didn’t want to talk about this. I need to get out-

“Marco lookout, Jean kisses when he’s drunk!”

I glanced up at Jean, watching as his cheeks flushed. We hadn’t seemed that close. Or were we close and I just failed to notice?

“Va te faire enculer Connie!!” Jean snarled. Go make yourself? _Nope that’s not it.._ fuck. Yeah. Go fuck yourself. That’s what he said. I glanced up at Connie as he strolled over, Sasha following behind him eagerly. “Just giving Marco fair warning.” He was tugging Jean out of his chair, Sasha lightly doing the same to me. “Why don’t you guys go dance for a while or something?”

_Don’t leave me alone with Jean._

“Yeah guys, go on. Just go dance!” Sasha laughed, giving up on pushing me out of the stool, to lightly shove Jean towards the dance floor. Connie grabbed my arm and pulled me the rest of the way off the chair, letting Sasha take a seat. I gulped and shook my head. If we’re dancing, we don’t have to talk right?

“I want to see you shake them hips Jean!” Sasha called, waving a rectangular shape in her hand. Jean turned around and gasped. Sasha lightly nudged the back of my thigh with her foot making me walk towards him. I inwardly groaned and reached for his hand, dragging him away towards the floor of bodies.

“When did you-? Don’t lose that!!” He roared over the music, reluctantly following me to the corner of the floor.

I started dancing effortlessly to the beat, rocking my hips and keeping up with the tempo. I looked up from the floor and smiled weakly. He barely moved, just softly swaying back and forth, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Sasha _did_ want him to dance.

I reached forward, pulling at his hips and pushing him around, basically forcing him to dance. I looked up when there was a flash coming from the direction of the bar seeing Sasha holding the camera up, looking extremely pleased with herself. Jean’s head whipped around, snapping back to mutter a low, “Abruti.” Jackass.

Even though we were slightly packed tight in the mass of bodies on the floor, we still had room to move around although it was limited. I still had my hands of his waist, my fingers just barely hovering above his skin. I wasn’t sure where else to put them, there was such a lack of space i felt like if I moved my hand i’d be groping someone and even though I was feeling very buzzed, that was not on my agenda for the night.

Jean was watching his feet, seemingly very interested in how with each of our tiny movements they shuffled to a new spot on the floor. A thought crossed my mind and I leaned forward, determined to make sure he heard me, “Jean...Jean! Jean!”

“What Marco? Jesus.”

I leaned back a little, not even noticing how close to his ear I had been, “How many freckles do I have?”

He gave me an incredulous look, pushing himself away from me to look me dead in the eyes. “I don’t know!” He snapped.

“Count them!” I begged, leaning into his body for support, feeling like dead weight on my own feet.

“Maybe later buddy? It’s dark in here.” he rolled his eyes, taking a step back from me. His eyes flickered to the bar and he narrowed his eyes. I didn’t know what was passing through his mind but I leaned forward, heavily resting on him for support.

I’m not sure how much more time was spent at the pub, couple hours maybe, but we constantly transitioned from drinking to dancing. I remember telling Jean more about my time in high school and why I wanted to be an artist. He was laughing so hard he had started wheezing, I think I said something about drawing butts.

I really don’t know.

When Jean decided it was probably time to head back to the apartment, I adamantly opposed to putting the reflective piece of armor onto my head. He tried to shove the thing onto my head but that just brought me to ask him why I need it.

“So you don’t die.”

“But why would I die? You’re driving.”

He groaned, “While I’m glad you have so much faith in me, you still need to wear the damn helmet.”

“Yeah, why.”

He glared at me and shoved the shiny thing in my face, “Marco. If you don’t wear the helmet I am leaving you here. Stranded. In France. Alone.” I didn’t bother complaining anymore after that and shoved the gear over my head, sliding onto the seat and sliding my arms around his waist again.

* * *

I suggested we should start a fire. Jean was starting to complain about getting hypothermia, which obviously he wouldn’t, but it was no joke that it was freezing in my apartment. I started getting the flame going, poking and prodding the fire until there was an optimal amount of flames licking at the bark. I sat back, watching the fire flicker before I was blanketed in darkness.

I could hear Jean laughing from outside, his voice drawing closer, “Don’t suppose you have any hot cocoa do you?”

“I do actually.” I fought with the blanket draped over me, irritated but pleased he had found probably the thickest and largest one in my room. I flailed my arms uselessly, unable to tell if I was burrowing further under the mass or actually making a dent towards my progression out. I finally managed to fling the thing off of me, at least almost. Half of it covered the right side of my face and I looked up at Jean as he stood up, “Where is it?” he questioned, taking a step back towards the kitchen.

“I can get it, it’s fine!” I murmured. He got the blanket it’s the least I could do.

“Non, I got this.” He barked, pressing a hand down on my shoulder as I tried to stand up. My footing slipped out from under me as I stepped on the edge of the blanket still wrapped around my legs. This stupid thing was trying to kill me. Jean cackled maniacally and sprinted off to the kitchen, returning a couple minutes later with steaming cups of hot chocolate.

“October weather is really not being nice this year.” he grumbled, sitting down next to me and pulling the blanket off my shoulder to wrap around his own.

I laughed lightly, holding the hot drink close to my chest in hopes of feeling even more warmth. I took a sip of the hot liquid, holding back a sigh of pleasure as it traveled down my throat. “Is it normally warmer?”

“Yeah. At average it’s at least in the forties, not low thirties.”

I hummed in response. Still cold, but anything was better than getting cold weather early. We sat in silence for a while, just drinking our chocolate and watching the flames lap at the wood hungrily. Jean shuffled next to me, his voice the first to break the silence.

“Hey Marco?”

“Hm?”

“How many friends do you have back home?”

I could feel his eyes turn on me and I frowned into the liquid left in my drink. “Not that many honestly. Why?” I only really hung out with Ymir and her girlfriend, but to be honest, my friend group consisted of people all over the internet.

“Just curious.” He shrugged, tugging the blanket back over his shoulder. “What about here? Other than me.”

I looked up from my mug, watching him for a minute before thinking about it. There was some events where he hung out with the other American abroad student, Armin, but it was rare because the kid was always getting video calls and was constantly on the phone. “Hmm. Well, besides you? No one really.”

He pulled his hot chocolate closer to him, “How come?”

“What do you think? We’re internet boys, do you really think I’m going to go out and talk to people?”

“You seem outgoing though!”

“When you get to know me sure, but in person before hand? I dunno, it’s just… too much out of my comfort zone.”

Jean glanced over at me, his eyes widening, “So the last two months, I’ve been the only one you’ve hung out with?”

“Yeah.” I agreed, blowing mindlessly at the mug. The liquid inside was barely warm and I had nearly drunk it all already.

“Well don’t I feel lucky.” He lightly nudged me in the shoulder. I smiled back at him lightly pushing him back. I was glad I was able to call him my friend. Really anyone close to him was truly the lucky one. I glanced over at him, slightly nudging his shoulder again.  

“So Jean.”

He squinted at the fire, “hah?”

“Who do you hang out with? You know, besides me?” Who said I couldn’t turn the question back around?

“No one.”

“Not even connie and Sasha?”

He shrugged, taking his time to answer, “Not really. I mean yeah sure, they’re there but-” he cut off, looking down at his cup clutched in his hands.

“But?”

“You know how they are. They’re practically dating. It’s like I’m the third wheel.” He chewed of his lip, bringing the cup up to his lips and taking a quick drink. “Also, like you said, we’re internet boys, we’re meant for virtual relationships.”

“True.” I leaned forward, setting my cup down on the hearth and reaching for the poker. I struck the wood, pushing it so the flames would catch on the untouched side of the wood. The fire easily picked up the remains, licking away at the burning embers. “If you ever need it, I’m here for more than virtual comfort too.” I set the poker up, turning to flash him a grin and pull the blanket back over my shoulders. “For at least five months.”

“Thanks Marco.” He laughed, but his voice portrayed his gratitude fully. He leaned forward, setting his cup down on the hearth as well. “Same to you.”

I grinned and leaned back, pulling at the blanket to rest on top of me. “I think I’m going to sleep now. Tired.” I mumbled. Jean reached back, pulling off some of the pillows from the couch to hit me in the head with.

“Use a pillow you dweeb.”

I laughed, picking the pillow up and weakly swatting him with it before shoving it under my head. “Night Jean.”

He lifted up the blanket, settling down next to me and curling next to me, trying to share in as much warmth as he could. “Night Marco.”

* * *

_It chased me down. I didn’t know what I was running from but I knew one thing. Fear. I was going to die. Pain. It coursed through my right side. Everything started turning black. I couldn’t find my voice. I was alone. I was dying and I couldn’t scream._

_I’m scared._

_The now black scene morphed, letting me glimpse at the boy leaning against the wall. His freckles barely noticeable against his skin, the right side of his body ripped from him; innards barely contained inside his cracked, exposed ribs. A man walked up near the corpse, his eyes widening and his fingers shook, “Marco?”_

_My throat closed up and I took a step towards him, barely able to find my voice, “Jean, I’m ok! I’m right here!”_

_“Is that you?”_

_“No! Turn around!”_

_“What happened?”_

_I reached out to touch him, my fingers sailing through his shoulder. What- Why couldn’t I touch him?_

_Jean kneeled down next to the corpse, his fingers dusting over the dead mans freckles, his voice cracking as he spoke, “Marco, sweetheart, what happened to you?”_

_“No… Jean. I’m here. Jean… please.”_

_He didn’t turn around, his gaze transfixed on the motionless heap against the wall, his body shaking._

* * *

“Marco?”

My eyes snapped open, my breathing coming in strained, heaving gasps. I frantically looked around my surroundings, barely lit by the dim firelight. Where was I? I couldn’t remember. I noticed the outline of a man leaning over me and met his concerned eyes. _Jean._

I was in France. Abroad program.

Not dead.

“What happened?”

I shuddered at his voice, the words too familiar at the moment. I was terrified. What if I reached out and couldn’t touch him. What if my fingers passed through him again? I felt whole, but my mind could be playing tricks on me again.

“Jean.” I whimpered. Cautiously I reached an unsteady hand up to his shoulder, my fingers making contact with his solid, sturdy structure. I let out the breath I had been holding in, pulling out my other hand from underneath the thick blanket. I gripped the back of his neck and greedily pulled him down into me.

“Marco? Ah!” He yelped, as I wrapped my arms around him, digging my nose into his shoulder, clinging onto him with whatever I could. “Marco… Please, don’t cry. Marco...”

I hadn’t even realized I was crying until he brought it up. I sniffled into his shirt, burrowing into his warmth. “I’m sorry.” I whispered, my voice cracking. I hadn’t had these kind of dreams since I was sixteen. He didn’t need to see the trauma these things put me through. He shouldn’t have to be the one to comfort me when I woke up screaming.

“About what?”

“Sorry you had to see me like this.” I burrowed further into his neck, basking in the feeling of being able to touch him.

He was quiet for a while, his hand running down my spine, his other hand moving up to comb through my disheveled locks, the smooth rhythm calming me down. I wormed my body closer to him if that was physically possible, trying to get as much contact as I could. He took a deep breath, “It’s fine.”

Just the sound and steady rise and fall of his chest was bringing me comfort. He was holding me, his hand placed on my back, I could touch him, I was solid. I wasn’t dead. I was breathing. “Are you alright?” he asked cautiously.

I nodded, my fingers tightening around the fabric I had gripped in my hands.

I had tried so hard to forget that dream the first time I had it. The image of seeing my dead body, torn apart. The bones. The blood. The rot. I had been alone. Before when I first had the nightmare, I hadn’t known him, the only person there to hold was my sister who was horrified. I had been alone even then. She’d tried everything but the only thing I needed was to know I was whole. I wasn’t alone. I had someone.

What I didn’t know, was that the person that could provide that level of comfort was Jean. I had held onto her, feeling lonelier than I had ever felt in ages.

Now, holding onto Jean, I felt safe. Secure. I felt like I was home. I listened to his heartbeat. His breathing. His arms holding me tightly to him. I tried not to think of the aftermath of how Jean would react to this. Who wants to deal with a guy who can barely keep himself from crying after a nightmare.

I didn’t want to think about what would happen if he left.

What would happen if the dreams continued and he wasn’t around.

I curled into his chest, feeling him move around me, nuzzling his cheek on the top of my head. It would take a miracle to get him away from me. I was never letting him go.

* * *

I cracked my eyes open, adjusting to the faint morning light illuminating the living room. I shut them immediately, pulling the blanket up to my nose and rolling over. The gentle light was intruding on my amount of time before my classes started.

I rolled back over, realizing the lack of the lean body that fell asleep next to me the night before. I frowned, feeling the floor, it was still warm from his presence. I curled up on the floor, moaning when my back popped and protested against the hardwood flooring. I barely heard the french being spoken in my doorway, just missing the “Au revoir!”

Had Jean answered my door?

Wait was that Armin?

I heard Jean walking around my apartment, grumbling as he shuffled around, his jeans scruffing along the wood. I stayed on the floor, twisting and turning in hopes to find a better position to fall back asleep too. I groaned, unable to find a position in which I was comfortable and shielded from the morning light. I rolled over, pushing myself up to sit on my knees before hauling myself up, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around my shoulders.

Jean was still in the kitchen, making sure I wouldn’t forget that from his loud grunts and clanging around.

What is he doing?

I breathed in, my nose finally picking up the unpleasant stench of something burning. I sighed before forcing my feet to move around the furniture in the living room and move towards the kitchen, a yawn erupting from my mouth as I walked around the corner, dragging the cape of a blanket on my shoulders.

He stood in front of the stove, a mighty frown across his lips, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to scrape the remains out of the pan with the spatula. “You cook?” I questioned him, slightly wondering if the charred pieces of bacon could even be considered adequate cooking.

“If I want.” he snapped back, not bothering to look at me as he snatched a piece of the black, shriveled meat and nibbled it, making an utterly disgusted look as it traveled down his throat. I didn’t even want to think about eating, my head was throbbing, the pain of it a dull ache in the back of my skull. I shuffled over to the bar stool and sat down, leaning forward to rest my forehead against the cool countertop.

I heard a bottle being set down near me but I didn’t bother to lift my head. “Oh yeah, some blonde kid stopped by. Short, blue eyes, He-man but without the build, just the hair.”

I snickered at the description. Of course Jean calls him out on his hair. “Armin?”

“I dunno, I didn’t get the kids name.”

Well that’s awfully helpful. “Did he ask for anything?”

“No. Just to say he stopped by.” Jean walked past me, and I slowly lifted my head to see the bottle of advil sitting in front of me. I popped two pills in my mouth and turned around on the stool, attempting not to move my head that much. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“‘kay.” A couple minutes later, the sound of the shower turned on and I shuffled over to the couch, grabbing my sketchbook and settled down on the cushions. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and sent a couple texts, one to my mom, another to Christa and then finally Armin.

**To : Armin**  
 **Jean tells me you stopped by?**

I barely had to wait before my phone buzzed again.

**From : Armin**  
 **Yeah, I was going to ask about last class.**

**From : Armin**  
 **I didn’t know you were finally getting it on with Kirschstein!**

**To: Armin**  
 **Oh! No! I’m not! Oh god Armin...**

**To: Armin**  
 **Just friends!**

I set my phone down on the table, the device buzzing with responses but I chose to ignore them, I had to start some sketches otherwise I would be lacking work for my class later. The shower was still running so I had at least five more minutes until Jean walked out again.

* * *

Jean took longer than I expected but when he finally came out of the shower he was shivering like mad so I gave him one of my sweatshirts before heading back to sketch in my notebook. I pulled my legs up underneath me, relaxing against the end of the couch, blanket back to being comfortably curled around me, a hot cup of coffee sitting next to my neglected phone.

Jean cleared his throat so I pulled my gaze up from the art sprawling across the page, giving him a warm smile. “What you drawing?” He moved over to sit next to me and I nervously slapped the book shut, tossing it to rest on the coffee table. His eyebrow raised up and a smirk curled at the corner of his lips, “You drawing porn or something?”

“What?! No!” I stammered, startled. I was not drawing porn! I swear it.

The stupid sly smirk was still cemented to his lips, “That your book of dicks?”

“No! I use this for class!”

“Oh so you have a class for drawing porn? What’s it called? Dicks 101?”

“Stop! Oh my god Jean.” If I knew hiding my figure drawing was going to make him tease me this much I would’ve just shown the book to him. I could feel my face heating up as he kept teasing me, his grin growing wider with each one of my flustered responses. He lightly shoved my shoulder playfully, cackling.

“Dude I’m just teasing you. Wow you got red.”

“Shut up.” I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head and burrowing under. I could hear my phone buzzing on the table, not really feeling up to coming out of my little cave I let it ring out. I didn’t really expect the object to come hurtling into my base and smack into my chest.

“He-man is calling you.” Jean growled, his voice strangely hostile and low. I scrambled through the now thrown off blankets for my phone, managing to save it before it stopped ringing and fell into the abyss between the cushions.

“Hey Armin!” I spoke lightly, giving Jean a strange look.

“Hey, is Jean still at your place?”

“Yeah, he’s still here. Why?”

“Oh. Well I was going to come over if was ok, but if he’s still there I won’t. He’s intimidating.”

I laughed. I understood where Armin was coming from, Jean could be very intimidating when you first meet him, especially so if your first interaction is right after he wakes up and hasn’t had his morning coffee. I noticed Jeans hand glide over to the abandoned sketchbook and let out a short gasp, lunging forward to slap his hand away from it. Now that he thought I had drawn dicks in it, I had an huge urge to keep it hidden from him to see how long I could keep it up.

“You ok Marco?” I hear Armin ask through the phone.

“Sorry, he tried to look at my sketchbook. Can’t have that happening.” I watch Jean, leaning over to grab the sketchbook and pull it into my arms. He gives me a mighty scowl before standing up, “fils de pute.” Son of a bitch. Did he want to see some dicks that bad? It really doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. He would’ve been disappointed anyways if he did.

I hear Armin talking to me in the background but all that I’m focusing on is Jean grabbing his phone and shoving it in his back pocket, not looking at me when he speaks, “I need to go.”

I furrow my brows, a sudden wave of sorrow hitting me. He’s leaving. The only thing I can think of is of last night. How he was probably so uncomfortable that the entire time he was trying to plan a way out. He’s leaving me.

Armin’s still talking and I’m too caught up in my own thoughts to focus on it, “Hold up a sec Armin.” I pull the device from my ear, holding it against my shoulder instead, “You ok?” I ask Jean hesitantly. I don’t even know what I want him to answer with. I just want to stall him from leaving.

He shrugs as if nothings wrong. “Yeah. Just thinking I could probably check on Springles.”

He rarely calls them Springles. Something is definitely wrong. I’ve scared him.

I’ll be alone again.

I nod slowly, trying to force myself to smile, it’s fake and it sure as hell probably looks like it. “Alright.” I look down, not wanting to watch him as he leaves. “Au revoir Jean.” I whisper as the door clicks behind him.

My mind is a blur now. The dull ache in the back of my skull not even a problem at the moment. All I can process is that Jean just left. I probably pushed him away because I’m traumatized by these nightmares I have. All I can hope for is that they don’t become a recurring thing again because I don’t think I could handle dealing with it alone again.

I slowly put the phone back up to my ear, “Hey, sorry about that.”

“Marco? You ok?”

I can hear my voice shaking. “I’m fine.” I’m not.

I need him.

I need Jean.

I take a deep breath, curling in on myself on my couch, listening to Armin ramble on about certain things. His art project he’s working on, the history behind it, certain buildings he’s been too and the ideas he came up with them. It’s interesting and I’m trying to listen to it, but I can’t bring myself to focus on anything except scenarios as to why Jean left so abruptly.

The only thing I can think is, It’s my fault.

He still has my sweatshirt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr you would know that I planned to update this last Sunday, but then I realized I hadn't really written anything for Marco other than a few scenes. And then school started again...
> 
> I stayed up so late last night working on this I kinda slept the day away. ~~Fell asleep at 4 and woke up at 3 pm. I won't take this long for the next update. I'm getting in the writing groove again and giving myself a Saturday deadline.~~
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, let me know what you think yeah? Thanks for the feedback so far, you guys are great! <3
> 
>  **EDIT**  
>  I can't believe I forgot this, but thank you for helping with the french [Claire](http://shi-butt-ani.tumblr.com/)!! You've been such a huge help!!


	4. Miss you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco misses his french nerd and reads too much fan fiction.
> 
> [Jean's PoV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1195209/chapters/3281672)

_Found myself in a memory_   
_Of you and I today_   
_Mmm had a bittersweet ending_   
_I thought I heard you say_   
_Baby let's get out of here_   
_We could run away_   
_Find a place nobody's gonna miss us_   
_Damn I miss ya everyday_

-Artist Vs Poet (Love Back)

* * *

_The flames flickered and I could feel the cool night air passing through my body. I shivered and looked down at the mousy haired boy kneeling in front of me. His fingers gripped a little bone shard. My bone shard._

_I lifted my eyes to watch the flames eat away at all the motionless bodies. “I’m sorry, Jean.”_

_His hand opened to show the bone shard, then his fingers closed around it. His hands were shaking, the tremor vibrating through his entire body. “Hey, Marco. I can’t even tell which are your bones anymore.” He was speaking softly, so no one could hear him. I pulled my eyes away from the flames to look at him, before walking over to his side. His head snapped up and his eyes widened as if he was seeing me fully standing next to him. His jaw dropped and his fingers tightened around the little bone shard._

_“Don’t get mad when I say this, Jean, but you aren’t a strong person.” I repeated the words I had said to him when I was alive. He was looking straight at me. I just wish he could see me. I want to be able to hold him again. “You’re able to tell how the weak feel. In addition, you excel in sizing up any situation. Isn’t that why you immediately know what should be done?” I kept my smile strong, determined not to let it falter while I talked to Jean kneeling in front of me._

_His brows furrowed, his fist clenched and he stood up, his body swaying with each movement. I wanted to hold him steady, but my form wouldn’t allow it. He steadied his body, standing up straight and took a breath, “Hey, guys. Have you decided which one you’re joining?” He looked stricken. Terrified. “I have.”_

_“I…” He pulled up his hand, still holding on tight to the shard, his body shaking. His eyes daring to let tears fall. He squeezed his eyes shut, his voice cracking, “I’m joining the survey corps!”_

_I reached out to turn him around, my fingers flying through him, “Jean! No!”_

* * *

I woke up, drenched in sweat. The covers were wrapped around my legs and I kicked wildly until they had been shoved off onto the floor. I pulled my legs up to my chest and took deep breaths.

Light was flooding through the windows. I had managed to sleep at least until 6 in the morning this time. I pondered texting Jean but knew he wouldn’t be up this early. He also hadn’t answered any of my texts but I continued to send them, a foolish hope that he’d respond.

I took a couple deep breaths before pulling myself off the bed, shakily walking into the bathroom to take a shower and rid myself of the sweat clinging to my body. It had been roughly three days since Jean was at my house. Two days since his last text.

I strolled out of the bathroom, pulled on jeans and pulled on one of the red sweaters Jean had bought me one of the times he had taken me shopping. I pulled my phone from its charger and checked for any new messages.

Nothing from Jean. The only messages I was getting now were from my sister and mother, and a few from Christa and Ymir. Not that I didn’t mind them, but right now the only messages I wanted the most were from Jean.

I had thought about stopping by his apartment on several occasions, but he was avoiding me for _some_ reason. I thought maybe it would just be best if I stayed away and tried to reach him from the phone.

The combination of his absence and the dreams was horrible to say the least. I’d wake up feeling alone and I wouldn’t have the reassurance of having him to remember I was alive and with him. He was only five minutes but it felt so much farther. In a way, the nightmares felt worse from when I had them when I was sixteen. Then, I hadn’t known who Jean was. He was just the two-toned haired boy from my dreams who shared my attraction. Now, I knew who he was and the dreams had shifted to views of me just watching over, unable to touch or speak to him.

Every time I woke up, I longed to touch him. I wanted to speak to him. I wanted to hear his voice addressed to me.

But he never answered.  
I felt dead.

I probably looked it too. It even got to the point where one of my classmates started to talk to me. She reminded me a lot of Jean. She wasn’t French, but the way she phrased things just sounded so much like the way he worked. She also liked to make fun of the way I said things. She’d snap so easily and whenever she smiled her lips would always pull up on one side more than the other.

She rarely showed up to class so I never actually got the chance to ask for her name so I just nicknamed her ‘jeanne’ until I could ask for her name. I started texting Jean more updates on her, telling him when she showed up for class, what she did during class that made the teacher almost kick her out.

She almost filled in the gap for Jean. Almost.

He still wasn’t answering anything so eventually I just stopped texting him. I tried filming a video but I could tell it wasn’t going to go very well. I tried to blame my tired, worn out physique to schoolwork, but my voice rose an octave and quivered, I couldn’t bring myself to smile normally. It was an extremely short video. It only lasted about two minutes or so. It didn’t even take me that long to edit it and I had posted it effortlessly.

I couldn’t stand to look at most of the comments on the video. Almost all of them were telling me to get Jean to make me soup because I looked sick. They gave me get well wishes. They were being so nice but most of them mentioned Jean.

Even the child I was tutoring asked me what was wrong. I had to watch after him longer than normal and could barely keep up with him as he happily charged around my apartment. He thought it would be a good idea to take my sketchbook and sprint around, all while questioning me about who I was drawing.

“Il est-?”

“English!” I barked, standing on the other end of the couch as the little blonde held the sketchbook across from me, peering at the sketches of Jean.

“…Who.. is-?” He tried to translate as I slowly stalked over to the other end of the couch, my hand outstretched. He looked up to verify he was saying it correctly before squeaking and bursting into giggles as he sprinted away.

“Wait!” I called, nearly slipping on my socks as I tried to run after him. “It’s my friend! Give it back!”

He sprinted around a corner and I heard his high voice try English again, his accent incredibly thick for an eight year old, “Do you…” he paused and I tiptoed up to the corner, pressed against the wall while he tried to find the right words, “il aimer?”

“Wha- Henry!” I snapped jokingly, peaking around the corner and he looked up, as I reached down and snatched the book from him. “Not like that.”

By the time his mother had come around to pick him up, she gave him a scolding for trashing my apartment and apologized profusely for his behavior. I panted and waved it off like it was no problem. Having to explain to a hyper child why you had a sketchbook full of your best friend is a terrible idea, I’ll tell you that.

I slumped down on the couch and glanced at the sketchbook sitting on the coffee table. I pulled the book over to me and flipped through. I was running out of space and almost every page was littered with Jean. I had managed to capture his natural smile, when he laughed, right before a sneeze, his grumpy face. I had almost all of his expressions. I had drawn the lines of his shoulders, the outline of his muscles beneath shirts. Occasionally I had full body motions, but a huge portion of my drawings consisted of above the waist sketches.

I pulled my phone over to me and sighed, typing out a new message.

**To: Jean**  
 **I miss you**

I didn’t send it. Instead, I deleted it and retyped a message.

**To: Jean**  
 **Jean, I’m sorry.**

I had no control of my dreams but I just wished I could. I wish I could go back to that night and stay up, never let the dream hit me. 

**To: Jean**  
 **I’m so sorry… just can you please…**

I dropped my phone and sat with my head in my hands. I missed my best friend. He was only five minutes away but I didn’t want to invade his space by busting in unannounced just to get him to talk to me.

_Bzt. Bzt._

I stared at the phone sitting next to my thigh. Jean Kirschstein. I fumbled for my phone, my hands started shaking so bad I nearly dropped it. I blinked a couple times, taking several deep breaths to keep from feeling too faint.

**From: Jean**  
 **What for?**

**To: Jean**  
 **Oh my god, you finally answered…**

I couldn’t help my fidgety fingers from typing out another message. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

**To: Jean**  
 **Can you come to my place? Or are you still avoiding me?**

His reply came fast.

**From: Jean**  
 **No.**

I blinked at his message before my eyes narrowed into a scowl. I understood to give him his privacy. I understood he wanted distance. I understood he could be a complete asshole at times. I was just tired of it. I pressed the call button and waited patiently for him to answer.

He finally picked up and I waited a second before speaking, my voice coming out a soft whisper, “Are you ok?”

I heard his voice hitch and he was quiet for a moment before his gruff voice replied, “Yeah.”

“Why can’t you come over?” I wanted to hear more of his voice. It was soft, but it was still Jean. It wasn’t the weak, terrified Jean from my dreams. This jean was tired and grumpy. This Jean was loud and hot-headed. They were the same Jean, but this was the Jean I could reach out and touch. This was the Jean I used to talk to on a daily basis.

“Well I guess I could. I told Connie I was going to go to the store but I can go tomorrow.”

I frowned. Whenever he had stayed over on Saturdays, it was impossible to get him up on Sunday until it was well into the afternoon. If he was going to go to the grocers, he would need to be up before noon considering they closed at 1pm. “Tomorrow’s Sunday” I warned him, my voice flat.

“Well, it’s not like they’re closed all day.”

“Yeah but you normally sleep until 3 on Sunday.”

“No I don’t.” He quipped, his voice sounding sharp. His accent flaring as he tried to defend himself.

“You really do.” I softened my voice, hoping to calm him. “I just- When are you available today?”

“I’m not,” he spat. I cringed at the harsh tone of his voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry to bother you.” I said quickly. I hung up the phone and tossed it to the side. I deflated into the cushions, running my hand through the little tangles in my hair. I stood up, grabbing my sketchbook and moved it next to my collection of other art supplies. I heard my phone vibrate on the couch and contemplated walking back to check but decided against it.

He made me wait a week; he can wait a couple minutes. I moved around my kitchen, making myself a quick peanut butter and jelly sandwich before walking back leisurely to my phone. I had four new messages, all sent seconds apart from each other.

**From: Jean**  
 **I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.**

**From: Jean**  
 **I can make time. When do you want me?**

**From: Jean**  
 **Not that way. Like friend-wise.**

**From: Jean**  
 **I like you.**

A couple seconds later, I had a new message.

**From: Jean**  
 **PLATONICALLY MAN.**

Well someone was panicking. I chuckled and tapped out a message in response.

**To: Jean**  
 **I like you too.**

I glanced around the apartment and sighed loudly. There was no way I would be able to clean this up to the point where I’d have company over. Even if it was Jean. I still wanted to see him soon, maybe he’d let me come to his flat.

**To: Jean**  
 **Asap? And would your place be ok?**

**To: Jean**  
 **I just finished tutoring the child I told you about and he made a mess everywhere.**

I set my phone down and munched on the remainder of my sandwich while I waited for his response. It took a couple minutes, but it did come. I smiled when I read it.

**From: Jean**  
 **Yeah, that works. Come when you can.**

I stood up, popping the remainder of the sandwich in my mouth and walked into the kitchen, washing my hands to rid them of the sticky jelly on my fingers. I brushed my teeth and checked myself in the mirror. I tried to smooth out my hair that was sticking up in random directions but it refused to listen so I just left it. I walked out and grabbed my phone, shooting Jean a text I was on my way.

It didn’t take me long to get to Jean’s. I walked faster than I normally would have and my long legs easily carried me there in record time. I stood in front of his door and ran a hand through my hair one last time before bringing my knuckles up to knock on his door. In several seconds, the door was being yanked open and he stood in front of me.

I bit my lip nervously and looked him up and down. He looked distraught, and he was shivering. He was wearing my old MCR t-shirt, dark wash skinny jeans that hugged his body and a red beanie was positioned near the back of his head. His hand held onto the door tightly, and he took a small step back. “Hey.” He said, his voice oddly soft as if scared I would turn and bolt.

I smiled, but it just barely pulled at my lips. “Hey.” I stepped inside, watching as he closed the door behind me carefully. He watched the door for a few seconds before his mouth opened. It closed again and he turned to look at me.

“I’m sorry-”  
“Marco-”

We both blinked, our mouths snapping shut, waiting for the other to open up and speak again. The silence carried on and I shifted my weight around. I used to be so comfortable in his house but now I just felt out of place. I glanced around, trying to see if he’d done anything during the week I was gone, but everything was still in the same place.

“Why are you sorry?”

I turned to look at him, blinking owlishly and then ducked my head. “For screwing up.” _I shouldn’t have let you see me like that._ “For having a breakdown.” _I’m sorry for crying on your shoulder._ “For bothering you-”

“What?” He snapped, his hands tightly wrapping around my shoulders. When I looked up, he was glaring at me, his lips set into a hard frown, “No, Marco. You didn’t screw up and you definitely don’t bother me.”

I frowned, my eyes dropping to look at my shoes. I swiped my tongue across my lower lip and took in a ragged breath, “Then why haven’t you been talking to me? What else did I do?” I raised my eyes to look at him, keeping my eyes narrowed as I watched the shift of anger to fear transition in his eyes.

“You haven’t done anything!”  
“Then what is it?” I snapped.

He sucked in his bottom lip, chewing on it aggressively. His hard grip on my shoulders loosened, his hands sliding down my arms and then rested uselessly next to his sides. He stared blankly at me, his mouth opening and then snapping shut again. He rolled his shoulders back, “I-I- I don’t…” He stuttered.

I sighed, “It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me.” It really wasn’t, but this was obviously giving him a hard time to form the words.

His head dropped and he quickly shoved his hands into his pockets. His shoulders dropped and I barely heard him when he spoke again, “I don’t- can you give me time?”

“Of course.”

We fell into an awkward silence for a while, both of us shuffling in front of the door, our hands held limply at our sides. Finally he cleared his throat and pointed a thumb towards the kitchen, “I got some beer. If you want to-?”

I cut him off, eager to do anything other than stand at his doorway in silence, “Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, probably startled at how fast I had responded considering the last time he gave me beer I complained for thirty minutes on how horrible it tasted. Jean was already walking to the kitchen, pulling out a six pack of beer and setting it down on the counter. We both opened one, and while I took my time with mine, he chugged his, setting it down on the counter and popping open another. I raised an eyebrow as he drank it and he snickered.

He was drinking beer after beer and no matter how much I told him to slow down he kept drinking. It was my idea to play a drinking game in hopes of slowing down his intake at all. He posed the idea we play questions. I shrugged and let him start us off.

“Are your eyes brown?”

I frowned at him, “Yes.” That was too simple, but I might as well keep up with the simplicity, “Do you like the color brown?”

He scoffed as if it was obvious, “Yes.”

It continued back and forth, neither of us drinking for a while, until Jean started asking me if I drew porn in my sketchbook. He kept questioning me, and I refused to answer half of them, nervously just sipping out of my drink. The questions escalated and I was starting to feel very hammered and soon I was laughing with him when he asked the stupid questions. I lost count of how many drinks we’d had.

I peered at him as our laughter died out, “Do you have a tattoo?”

“Yes.” He sneered, leaning forward so his breath hit my face, “Do you have a tattoo?”

I leaned back a little, pushing his beer towards him and laughing, “No repeats, Jean!”

He grumbled but took a sip anyways, setting it down hard and staring at me intently. His eyes narrowed and he leaned in towards me again.

“Is it on your back?” I squeaked out.

His eyebrow raised, “Yes.” He took a step back, his eyes running up and down my body, “Do you want a tattoo?”

I pursed my lips and apparently took too long to answer for Jeans liking cause he tapped the rim of my can, his canary-eating smile spread across his lips. I moaned and pulled it up to my mouth and took a gulp. “Yes.” I paused, watching him carefully as he swayed forward, “Can I see it?”

He blinked at me before nodding quickly, reaching up to pull his shirt over his head and then he spun around. He craned his neck to watch me as I looked at the large black and white wings spread across his back. I didn’t think about it, I just reached out to press my finger to the simplistic design, my finger trailing up one of the white wings. It was beautiful. His voice came out a whisper when he spoke again, “Have you ever kissed anybody?”

My finger stopped on one of the black feathers on his shoulder blade. “No.” I mumbled. I guess I should’ve seen the personal questions coming when I had asked about his tattoo.

“Have you kissed a girl before?” I asked, still entranced by his wings.

“Yes.” He mumbled. He craned his next again, slightly turning his body to face me. “Do you want to?”

It took me a second to register what he was asking and I took a drink from my can, nodding my head as I set it down, “Yes.” He turned around more, his bare chest in front of me. I swallowed and leaned back, “Do you have any more tattoos?”

He nodded, “Do you care who it is?” He licked his bottom lip and my eyes trained onto the movement.

I muttered a quiet, “Yes.”

Jeans voice dropped into a deep sultry tone, his accent thick and his words heavily slurred, “Can it be me?”

My jaw dropped and I snapped it shut, a deep blush settling on my cheeks. “I-uh--” I knew of his tendencies to kiss when drunk. I had tried to keep a comfortable distance when we drank together, but now; I was practically shoved up against the counter, Jean’s hot breath hitting my lips.

I had to stop him. He would regret it in the morning.

The front door swung open and Jean barely moved but I could feel his breath catch.

“Jean, I’m a genius- Oh, am I interrupting something?” Connie asked, his voice raising an octave in his embarrassment.

“No-”  
“Yes.”

I looked at Jean and frowned, lightly pushing his shoulder away nervously. He pouted at me but turned to look at Connie, his eyes narrowing.

“Do we have any beer left?” Connie grumbled, making his way over to his door near the kitchen.

“Not a clue.” Jean grumbled, his words so slurred it sounded like one word. Connie raised an eyebrow and looked at me.

“Should I be worried?” He whispered to me, as if Jean wasn’t in the room.

Jean stepped back from me, turning around and grabbing another drink, a deep rumble emitting from his throat that transitioned into something resembling singing. _“Formidable, formidable--” Terrific, terrific--_

Connie ducked inside his room, “I’ll leave him in your capable hands.” He called, his door shutting behind him.

I stared at his door in horror, petrified that he had left me alone with a singing Jean. _“J'étais fort minable, nous étions formidables.” You were terrific, I was terrible._ He sang, his voice heavy, and I swung around to lunge at the can he was holding.

He dodged expertly for someone so wasted, his voice rising as he continued to belt, _“Je vais pas vous draguer, promis, juré,” I swear I won’t hit on you._

“Jean!” I called out, trying to reach out again, my laughter starting again as he continued to sing to me. I gripped his drink and pulled it out of his hand easily, tripping over my feet and nearly slamming into his chest. His voice softened as he sang the first few lines again and I stood up to my feet, setting his drink down on the cluttered counter.

He skipped several lines and his voice rose again, _“Pourquoi t'es tout rouge? Beh, reviens, gamin, et qu'est-ce que vous avez tous a me regarder comme un singe, vous?” Why the blush? Come on, come back, boy, and what’s wrong with you all staring at me like I was a monkey, eh?_

I heard Connie yell from his room, “Le ferme, Jean!!”

I let out a little laughter and reached out to grab Jeans wrist which, for some reason, effectively shut him up. His mouth hung open as he stared at my hand, then he abruptly gripped my wrist and started walking.

He pulled me away to his bedroom, his movements sluggish and he nearly walked into the doorframe but he managed to make it inside. His hand tugged on my wrist to pull me in the room after him, but my intoxicated body couldn’t keep up with the quick movements and I started to fall. I reached out and my fingers closed around his shoulder and pulled him down with me.

The mattress cushioned our fall and I blinked up at Jeans startled face. His cheeks were bright red, his nose brushing mine. His eyes turned down, watching my lips as I panted. His tongue reached out, running slowly across his bottom lip.

“Jean-” I warned, but I was cut off when he roughly pressed his lips to mine, his mouth clumsily moving against mine. I pushed him off roughly, my face bright red, my heart hammering, “Jean-” _He’s drunk. It means nothing. He’s drunk._

“Sorry.” He grumbled, his shoulders sagged and his eyes started to close.

“Hey, stay awake. I’m going to get you some water.”

He nodded, moving himself up the bed and leaning against the pillows. I made quick movements to the kitchen, getting a glass of water for him and walked back inside, my lips still tingling from when he’d kissed me, “Jean.” I called. His eyes were closed and he was sliding off to the side. “Jean, wake up.” I set the glass down, moving to lightly shake his shoulder.

“No.” he mumbled, his body falling over towards me, “I’m asleep.”

“You really should drink water, Jean.”

“Sleep with me.”

“What?” I whispered, staring at him incredulously.

He reached out, grabbing at my waist and pulled me down next to him, “Sleep with me.”

“Drink water first.” I said, my voice sounding incredibly squeaky.

He growled, moving sluggishly to raise himself and grab the water. He sipped on it until it was about halfway empty and handed it to me, “You drink some too.”

I took the glass, my face feeling incredibly hot as Jean lay back down, snuggling into my side. I took several gulps and then set it down beside his bed. I shuffled down further onto the mattress, resting my head on his pillows, lying stiffly as Jean rested his head on my shoulder. I wasn’t sure what placement to have my body in, but I was so uncomfortable lying next to him.

He shifted, and his head fell off my shoulder, “Wait.” He grumbled, reaching out to grab my hand and moving me around like a puppet. When he finished moving us around, my hand was resting on his waist, his legs wrapped up in mine and his head was pressed against my chest, “Much better.” He hummed.

In several minutes, his breathing had slowed considerably and his soft snores had started. The position he had put us in was way more comfortable than before and my mind was starting to slow allowing me to drift off to sleep. One thought persistent to keep me awake just a bit longer. _I just had my first kiss with my drunken best friend._

* * *

_“Kirschstein! Get your gear on!”_

_“Yes, sir!” He turned around, fingers fumbling as he picked up the straps. “Shit.” He grumbled, starting to wrap the straps around his torso. I watched with a warm fondness._

_I had been around him for at least a week after my death. I’d seen the worst of his nights. I’d heard his screams. I’d heard his pleads for my return. It was hard for both of us. I eventually learned how to focus energy on one part of my body to make it solid enough to touch things. I’d give him kisses on his forehead, neck, cheek, shoulder, lips; anything I could touch to see his body relax enough so he could get sleep._

_He was still struggling to get his straps on, his fingers quivering with the urgency. Laughing, I stood up and walked over to him, reaching over to tighten the straps around his thighs. I moved around him as he fumbled with the buckle on the front of his chest, my cold fingers adjusting his gear._

_He finally managed to tighten the strap and then looked over the rest of them, giving a wide smile, he opened his mouth, “Thanks, Ma--” He looked over his shoulder and his face fell._

_He couldn’t see me, but I still smiled._

* * *

I abruptly woke up by Jean flopping back onto the bed, groaning loudly. I kept my eyes closed, insistent on keeping my eyes shut so I didn’t have to stare at the blinding light. I could feel a dull ache in my head but knew it was nowhere close to how much Jean’s head must be hurting.

I heard Jean sigh softly, his quiet whisper breaking the morning silence, “I’m an idiot.”

I chuckled lightly, “Morning.”

“You’re awake?”

I opened one eye slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the light. His hair was standing up in every direction and his eyebrows were furrowed. I raised an eyebrow, “you kinda flopped back on the bed. Yes, I’m awake.”

He groaned again, closing his eyes and pulling the blanket over his head. “What happened last night?”

I still had my legs wrapped up around his from last night, my arm had slid down his body and my finger rested on his hip. I slowly moved away from his body, carefully removing my legs from his. A flashback of his lips on mine hit me and I could feel the blush rushing across my cheeks.

Beneath the covers I heard Jean speak up, “Did I do anything?”

He doesn’t remember. _That’s good right?_

“Cause if I did, it meant nothing. Oh god I did something didn’t I? What did I do?” he blurted, his voice rising with his panic. His wide eyes poked out from the blanket and I turned my face away, worried he’d see how much I was blushing.

I laughed, rolling off the bed and smoothing out the wrinkles in my shirt. “No. You didn’t do anything.” I muttered, silently cursing my high voice. I had never been good at lying. I stood up, rolling my shoulders in an attempt to relax, “Do you want coffee?”

“Yes.” Came his muffled reply.

I strolled out of the room quickly and walked towards the kitchen when I heard the loud yelp from his room, “OW!”

I strode back to his room, “Are you ok?!” Upon peeking my head inside, I couldn’t stop the rise of giggles that bubbled up my throat. He hadn’t bothered trying to get out of the blankets and instead rolled off, taking all the covers with him. His mop of hair was visible as he struggled around, his face occasionally making an appearance with more exaggerated movements.

“I’m fine. Stop laughing.” He growled, his voice muffled by the sheets.

I bit my lip, trying to contain the laughter but my grin slipped through along with more forceful laughter as his legs flailed around, “Ok, Mr. Burrito.” I turned around, letting him figure a way out by himself and walked back to the kitchen.

I took out some advil and took a couple, moving around to start the coffee, listening to him begin the string of curses in his room before he called for me again. I let the coffee start falling into the pot and walked back into his room, “I’m never going to get that coffee for you if you keep calling for help.”

“I only called once, dude.” He snarled, scrambling out of the sheets as I loosened them up enough.

I tossed them back onto the bed and laughed, “Are you good or do you need help getting up?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, pulling a shirt over his head and then moved to place his hands on the floor. He pushed his butt up into the air and then slowly stood up. I took a step back, averting my eyes from his ass as he stood. He moved to step forward but he swayed and I immediately reached out to catch him.

“You’re doing great.” I smiled, and he shrugged out of my hold and started walking towards his laptop.

“What are you doing?”

“Computer,” he mumbled, his eyes focused and arms outstretched for balance. I stayed behind him, ready to catch him if he fell. “Why did you let me drink so much?”

“I couldn’t get you to stop. You only stopped when-” I trailed off, feeling his lips on mine again and shuddering. I was slowly realizing that I wasn’t disgusted by it, or disturbed. I just let it slide, excusing all the alcohol. “I was going to make you coffee. I’ll be right back.” I shot, quickly escaping out of the room.

I poured the coffee into two cups and stood in the kitchen for a while. I licked my lips and looked down at the coffee. I should just forget the kiss happened and move on. I kept reminding myself he was drunk when it happened. It meant nothing.

He seemed so flustered when he woke up. _Why did he expect he did something?_

I shook my head, stop thinking about it. I picked up the cups and shuffled back into his room, setting down his cup in front of him, “Here’s your coffee, you grump.” I slid into the seat next to him, sipping on my drink before I looked up, seeing the camera pointed towards me and Jean, “Wait. Are you recording?”

“Yes.”  
“You’re recording a video while hungover?”  
“Yes.”  
“Oh.” I raised my hand and waved awkwardly, raising my drink to my lips and shifting my gaze to Jean. “What are we filming today?”  
“Tumblr tags.”  
“Oh, no.” I whispered.  
“Get it over with?” He asked, a smirk spread across his features.

I groaned and softly set my cup down, “Yeah, let’s do this.” I repositioned myself in my chair, leaning forward as Jean typed in his username. I gulped, “Jean, I’m scared.”

I knew what was in this tag. Ymir loved to tease me about it. The amount of ‘Marcoisnotahorse’ posts there were, was astounding. It made me shiver to think about how many of our viewers shipped us.

If they knew what happened last night, we would never hear the end of it. Thank god Connie didn’t decide to film anything.

“It’s ok man, I’m right here.”

I sucked in a breath as the page loaded. The first gif was one of me tackling him to the ground after I’d had too much to drink. The most of that video I remember was the awkward singing of "Kiss It." I don’t even remember the singer but wow was that video random. Jean kept scrolling, the amount of gifs from his last video increasing as he went farther down. He groaned at most of them, and both of us made some cooing noise at some of the fan art.

He paused in his scrolling, his mouse falling down over the heart that filled up and I stared in disbelief, giving him a sideways glance, “Uh, Jean, did you just like that art?”

“No.”  
“But the heart-”  
“Ta guelle.” He growled, quickly scrolling away from the fan art of us cuddled up on a bed. His face lit up with a deep blush and I turned away back towards the screen, laughing as he squirmed at the photo shopped pictures of his face. He scrolled past a couple fanfics and I frowned.

“Jean, I don’t think it’s right to go through tumblr without acknowledging all the hard work of the fanfiction-writing community.”  
“Oh, no.” He choked out.  
“There’s nothing wrong with fanfiction! It’s a creative hobby,” I whined, leaning back into my chair and smirking at him. I had to admit it was cute to see how flustered he got over little things. But the look he gave me then had to be the best. His face was bright red and he was trying hard not to glare.

“Well it is--”

“Would you rather your future child be into creative reading and writing, or be into snorting crack from a hobo?” I cut in, watching as his face shifted into acceptance and then into one of mild fear.

“Wha- There’s some dirty stuff out there, Marco.”  
I leaned across him to grab the mouse, “Let’s find a dirty one.” I scrolled along, seeing one called My Beating Heart, “My Beating Heart. Let’s look at this one.”

“Oh, god.”  
“Ooo, chapter six. You prepared for this, Jean?”  
“No.”  
“Too bad.” I smiled, figuring out where to start reading out loud. I smirked, “ _Strings of saliva kept us tied together, a few weak strands breaking and snapping against our already wet lips, the delicious ‘smack’ of my mouth breaking away from his repeatedly echoing about the small room. Jean swiped his tongue back throughout my mouth, stroking along the roof and my tongue, and he pulled away, saliva still bridging the gap between our lips._ ”

I nudged him, giving him one of my more devious smiles. His expression remained flat and he set his jaw, reading the next line, “ _’hey,’ he panted, ‘Marco?’_ ”

He hadn’t acted it out, so I figured I would pick up his slack and dropped my voice to a deep sultry tone, “ _His thumb rubbed small circles along the insides of my thigh. ‘Y-yeah?’ I gasped, breath shaky._ ” I gave a sideways glance to Jean again, and saw him shake his head, turn the chair and throw his hands up, “Nope.” He walked out of the room, “Nope. Nope. Nope.” His voice trailed off and I grinned happily at the camera.

“Sorry, I chased him off.” I chewed my lip and leaned back in my chair, “Am I supposed to do the sexy dance?”

“Uh, Yeah.” He called out, his voice cracking. I stood up, moving up to mess with the camera. Standing back, I placed my hands on my hips and swayed back and forth. I giggled while trying to say the lines he normally had, “It’s the awkward sexy end screen dance. If you want to subscribe to his videos, click on his… uh… bed?” I pointed to the bed in the background, “If you want to check out my videos, click in this area.” I waved my hands around my crotch and couldn’t help but start laughing.

“You look so awkward doing that.” Jean mumbled, standing in the doorway.

“You’re the one that normally does it.” I snap jokingly, still rotating my hips around. I moved them forward and he gasped.

“Not towards the camera!!”

“Oh! Sorry.” I stammered, quickly switching back to side to side. “Why am I doing this again?”

“Cause you offered. And I’ve gotten some requests for you to do it.” He walked over to the camera, ending the recording.

I sighed, “Remind me never to offer again. That was too awkward.”

He laughed and pulled out an usb cable, moving around to his laptop to plug it in. I checked my phone, sighing at the time. _I really didn’t want to have to leave yet._ I leaned forward, nearly resting my chin on his shoulder, watching as he uploaded the video, “I have class in an hour, I probably should go.”

Jean nodded, his eyes trained on the screen. I leaned away, “You want to stop by after my class? You could finish editing the video at my place.”

“Oh uh, yeah. Sure.”

“You okay?” His voice was oddly high.

“Yeah, fine.” He grumbled, swirling in his chair to face me, “Just a couple hours, right?”

I nodded, smiling, “Yeah. Should be home around 2:30.”

He nodded, standing up and leading me out to the door. He had his hands tucked in his pockets and he was being amazingly quiet, his lip raw from biting it so much. I opened my mouth to ask if he was really ok, but decided against it. It was probably just his headache. I smiled, “See you later then?”

“Yeah.” He flashed a lopsided smile and I waved, making my way back home before my class.

..

“Jean? It’s like five o’clock. Are you okay?” I paused and sighed, “Just call me back when you can.”

Thirty minutes later I sent him a text.

To: Jean  
How’s your head?

Two hours later I had taken a shower, eaten and was working on some sketches when my phone started vibrating. I let it die out the first time, too lazy to get up. The second time I set my sketchbook down and was about to get up but the ringing stopped. Third time, I went to get my phone and tripped over one of my sketchbooks that had fallen to the floor. I picked them up and set them aside, grunting as the phone stopped vibrating.

When I finally got to it, I had three new voicemails and I sighed. All from Jean.

I was about to listen to them when my phone started vibrating. Laughing, I picked it up and put it to my ear. “Marco, I fell asleep.”

“I figured.”

He was quiet for a moment and then, “Are you free tomorrow?”

I sucked in a breath, glad that he was trying to hang out but I was starting to get on edge from last night. I was thinking too much about it and I was starting to re-evaluate my feelings and I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to have feelings for my best friend. I couldn’t. I hadn’t felt anything for anybody before.

It didn’t help any either, that my dreams were of us, and I was always so affectionate. Whenever I woke up, the need to touch him would increase tenfold. I don’t know what I was feeling, but it definitely did not fall under ‘friend’ category.

I realized I still had yet to answer him, “Sure.”

“Okay, is eleven alright with you?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Neither one of us spoke for a while. I walked over to my sketchbook and sat down on the couch, about to try and start a conversation but I heard a small sigh before his voice sounded in my ear again.

“Hey, Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“What did I do?”

I frowned, “What?”

“Last night. What happened?”

I gulped and fiddled with the edge of my paper, “I thought I told you nothing happened.”

“Yeah, you lied,” He mumbled, his tone flat, “It’s kinda easy to tell when you lie, Freckles.” He tried to tease, but I could tell he was getting frustrated.

“Why were you ignoring me?” I snapped, trying to change the subject.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He raised his voice and I flinched. I sighed and flipped to an empty page in my sketchbook.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

We were silent for a minute or so, and I stared blankly at my paper. “Jean?”

“Hah?”

“I have a lot to do, call you tomorrow?” I lied, glad I didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“Oh. Uh, sure.”

“Night, Jean.” I whispered.

“Night, Marco.”

I hung up and tossed the phone against the couch, slapping the sketchbook shut and leaning back against the couch. I don’t feel like drawing anymore.

* * *

I sat at my laptop, scrolling through all the new messages I had. The morning light streamed in and I took careful sips of my coffee, determined to not spit it out over the screen as I read some requests. I had gotten at least thirty new messages on my tumblr since Jean posted the video. Every single one requested we read more fanfiction. Even some proposing the idea to actually act it out. Every other one was saying to read one called Wisteria. I opened up one of the links they sent me and read the summary.

It intrigued me but I refused to read anything yet. I would wait until Jean would read it with me. When I looked up some of the other fics my viewers recommended I cringed. No way were me and Jean reading straight up porn. No way, no how.

I was not going to read one about how much Jean loves cock.  
I was not going to read about walkie-talkie sex.  
No.  
I was definitely not reading about skype sex.

My phone buzzed and I picked it up, scrolling back up to the top of the list.

**From: Jean**  
 **Hey. I’m omw.**

**To: Jean**  
 **Ok cool.**

I smiled and then looked at the laptop screen again, looking at the three anon messages saying basically the same thing. Reading fanfiction on camera was either the best or worst idea.

**To: Jean**  
 **Do you want to shoot another vid?**

**From: Jean**  
 **I guess. What u thinkin?**

**To: Jean**  
 **You’ll see.**

I walked out to my living room when I heard the knock on my door. I opened the door quickly, giving him a warm smile. “Hey.” He took a step inside, his eyes watching me cautiously. There is so much tension in the air that my smile starts feeling forced.

“Hey.” His voice is flat and he takes another step inside giving me space to shut the door behind him. His eyes are darting around my living room before he clears his throat, his bright tawny eyes falling back to me, “So that video?”

I grinned, “Oh, that.” I started walking to my computer back in my room and waved him to follow me. I sit down in front of the computer, opening up the tumblr tab on my window again.

“I seriously hope you don’t intend to shoot another tumblr tag video.” He groans.

I shake my head, chuckling lightly, “No, but look at this.” I turn the computer towards him, giving him a nervous grin. He sucks in a breath as he looks at all the inbox messages I have. He starts scrolling through and his jaw is slowly dropping.

“You’re kidding.”  
“You can say no.”

He looks up at me and he’s giving me this pensive look like he’s honestly thinking about it, “No,” he grumbles, his eyes dropping to the screen again and back to me. “I’ll do it.” He snaps.

I narrow my eyes, attempting to try and detect a lie. Sensing nothing I smile and give a quick nod, “Awesome, give me a minute to set it up?”

He nods, “Yeah, no problem.”

I quickly get to work, grabbing my camera and moving things around to catch the right lighting. I do a double check on everything before turning around, “Ok. All good.”

His eyes dart up to my face and he nods, moving to sit next to me and then reaches across my body to set his water down on the bedside table after I’ve pressed record. I catch his scent of chocolate axe and cheap soap again and I’m suddenly completely flustered as he slowly brings his body back to sit next to me, his shoulder brushing my chest.

“What- You could’ve just asked me to put it over there.”

“It’s fine.”

I sigh, but I can’t help but smile. I look up at the camera, “Hey guys, Jean’s back.”

Jean waves at the camera, flashing a lopsided smile. I give him a playful push, launching into the videos introduction, “So after class yesterday, I was checking tumblr and there was this huge influx of questions thanks to our last video together.” I leaned towards the camera, dropping my voice and raising my eyebrows, giving the camera a smirk, “You guys sure want us to read that fan fiction, don’t you?”

“Do you guys want some water? You seem thirsty,” Jean pipes up.

I snicker at Jean and then back to the camera. “Even though you guys asked us to read like twenty different fan fics, we decided to go with Wisteria because that’s the most requested one.”

“This is a one-time-only thing. Hopefully it can quench your thirst.”  
“You ready Jean?”  
“Ready when you are.” He smirked, shifting around to get comfortable.

* * *

I think I had two hours worth of material at this point but we kept reading. We were into at least the fifth chapter and I was getting so irritated with Jean. I had put distance between us and had to hold back the angered grunt whenever he did something stupid in the story.

She had written us so well I couldn’t help but feel connected with the storyline. I was immersed in it, and that included my emotions so when we got to the point where Jean was being a complete idiot, I lost it.

Jean was also doing a really good job voice acting, which did not help calm me down. If he had read his lines flat like he had for My Beating Heart, I probably wouldn’t have been so enveloped.

_“‘Marco,’ Jean’s voice was ragged.”_  
 _“I turned to look at him, trying to decide if I should punch him or kiss him.” Oh I could definitely relate._  
 _“‘Who was that? On the phone?’ he demanded.”_

“Are you kidding me?” I snarled, I flung my arms up into the air, fed up with Jean’s character. _So he can have a fiancé and I couldn’t have a friend without him becoming jealous? What the hell!_ “Why are you such a-“ I groaned, unable to bring myself to finish the complaint.

“A dick?”

“Yes!” I yelped, turning to look at him.

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth, closing it again. “Marco-” His voice was soft but it reminded me of how he said it when he was reading lines.

“No!” I barked at him.

“No, Marco. Listen. I would never be that much of a dick to you.” He blurts, his hand reaching out to brush my arm.

I look down to his fingers lightly running over my arm and I’m stunned to silence for a moment. When I look at him again though, my eyes are narrowed, “You ignored me.”

“And that was stupid.” He shoots, quick with his words.  
“You won’t tell me why.”  
“I can’t.”  
I bristle, “Why.”  
“Because- it’s… hard. And it scares me.”

He’s scared? I look at the screen, gritting my teeth together when I look at the next few lines and then slam the laptop shut with a vengeance. I shove the camera towards the door, not bothering to stop recording. Jean’s more important. “Why are you scared?” My voice is softer but Jean has ducked his head.

He’s gone silent.

“Jean. Talk to me. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me things.”

He says nothing, his hand has fallen off my arm and into his lap and he starts to pick at the hem of his shirt.

“Jean. Please. Talk to me.” I try again. I move forward, placing my hand on his shoulder.

“I like you.” He blurts. His entire body goes stiff and he’s silent for a while, letting his words sink in. I can’t move. I can’t speak

“Merde, Je- I…” Jean spoke, his voice cracking and trailing off. My hand slid off his shoulder and fell into my lap. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, but my heart was beating like mad.

“Never mind.” He whimpered, getting up and stumbling for balance. “Sorry, forget I said anything.”

I couldn’t just forget that. He started walking to the door and I jumped to my feet, reaching out to hold him back. _Don’t leave me. I’m selfish. Don’t leave._

“Um-” I don’t know what to say. I’m feeling light headed but I keep my grip on his wrist steady.

“You don’t have to say anything. I understand. I shouldn’t have ignored you. I didn’t mean to ruin everything-”

“Jean! Stop!” I snap, my voice steady and commanding. I can feel the blush rising on my cheeks and I can’t decide if it because I’m flustered or frustrated. His head lifts and he’s looking over his shoulder at me, embarrassment and pain evident in his eyes. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s ok.” I say softly, hoping to delay his leave.

“You don’t-” His voice dropped. His wrist is tugged from mine and he backs up, “Sorry, I’ll leave.”

“No!” I jump, reaching forward again, my arms looping around his chest and tugging him back towards me. I stumble back from the force as he falls back into my chest and he tries to pull away from me but I grip him steady. I have to tell him. “I don’t feel anything.”

His struggles intensify and he growls.

"That’s not true,” I whisper, my lips close to his ear.

His body freezes, going limp in my arms. I can feel the shiver ripple through his spine as I continue to talk to him, “I don’t think I’m to that point. But something is there.” I look down, my forehead hitting his shoulder, “I can’t tell you I feel the same because that’s not fair to you. I don’t want to drag it out like that.” I grip his shirt tightly and then let him go. “Just please don’t leave me for saying so.” I plead.

His mouth opens and I think he says something but I can barely hear it. “I won’t.” He repeats. He steps forward and looks over his shoulder, his body just barely turning towards me.

I’m scared he’s going to walk out that door and never return. His gaze is turned down, and his shoulders are slumped.“I won’t leave you.” He says. I see the tremble start in his fingers and he backs up. “I need to go.”

My voice feels small, “Ok.”

I don’t have a reason to make him stay. I wish I did, but I don’t. I just watch him walk out of my apartment, and hear the door click behind him.

I can’t stop the silent stream of tears that pricks my eyes. I turn around and look at the bed. My eyes land on the camera, the red light still on in a sign that I recorded the entire confession.

I stop the recording and take the camera over next to my laptop, slumping down onto the mattress.

_Don’t leave me, Jean._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried so hard to get it up on Saturday. I was so close.
> 
> I didn't anticipate Marco having so much to say and being 1k more than Jean's and just- *turns into a puddle* so much writing.
> 
> As I said on Jean's PoV; Thank you all for being so patient with my and my sporadic updates. I'm so astounded with the amount of attention this has gotten and I'm so overwhelmed I don't know how to contain how happy I am. So thank you all so much <3


	5. A little cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco has some realizations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I apologize all the time for this but.... i'm sorry i'm slow.
> 
> EDIT: please go back and read the earlier chapters! A lot has changed and I'd hate for you to miss out!  
> Also if you liked the 'smallish' size of the chapters, I'm sorry. They've doubled. They are now packed with more juice?

_What would you say if I told you I’m not giving up_   
_However long it takes_   
_It’s clear that things have changed since when we started_   
_But we can’t just walk away babe_

_So I am telling you that,_   
_I know things aren’t quite like what they used to be._   
_Different faces, different places_   
_Yeah we can try, oh, yeah we can try_

-Between the Trees (We can Try)

* * *

 

**From: Ymir**  
**Ey fellow freckle ass, how are those French dicks treating u?**

**From: Ymir**  
**I gave u 6 minutes and no answer? MaRCO.**

**From: Ymir**  
**Do I need to fly over there myself? ill bring a shotgun.**

**From: Ymir**  
**Who needs to be shot.**

**From: Marci**  
**Ymir tells me someone needs to be shot. What happened?**

**From: Mama**  
**Why is Marci asking to go to France? I know you miss her but Marco, we can’t afford that.**

I checked my messages again, figuring I should answer all three of them, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond because the one person I wanted a message from hadn’t messaged me for a few days now. I had decided to give him his space but it was becoming unbearable. We had just gotten over our previous issue. Well _almost._

I ran my hands through my hair and sighed loudly, if I hadn’t bugged him so much about why he had ignored me we wouldn’t be in this situation.

I kept wondering though what would’ve happened if I had said I liked him back though. We wouldn’t be in this stage of avoiding each other. We’d probably be in our old rhythm of going to each other’s houses after classes. We’d watch movies until late at night. It would be the same but with the exception of kissing and cuddling.

The thought made me nervous.

I had experienced liking someone before. I had never really dated anyone though. I never experienced lust. I felt things sometimes for people, but there was never a desire, or want to do anything with them. The comments in me and Jean’s videos were enough evidence that they really wanted us to do something, and that we were both attractive. But I couldn’t picture myself with Jean in my arms.

I had a small identity crisis one year when I started feeling something for someone, but within days it was gone. I had no idea what to identify with because while I didn’t get sexually attracted to anyone, I was still horny through my teenage years. It’s hard to pleasure yourself when you have nothing to imagine, just so you know. I hadn’t thought too much into it, but a few years into high school it was becoming a problem when I started liking two of my closest friends at the same time.

So when Jean told me he liked me, I didn’t know what to do. We had such a close connection I couldn’t picture anything happening between us. I didn’t fantasize about him, I didn’t think about kissing him or cuddling. I wanted him to be near me most nights, but that was mostly because of my nightmares.

In his absence, those dreams seemed to have gotten worse. They would start out calm, and then suddenly would take a turn for the worst where I’d be watching my old friends die to the titans. Jean was always the only one I had time to save. Every time he would look for me, and then I’d watch his expression fall as the realization hit him. After a while he was pressing a soft peck to his hand that had held my bones, my old sword hilts, or whispering my name in his sleep.

Every time I woke up in a cold sweat. Every single time I’d want to text him or have some way to interact with him to make sure he was ok, or make sure that he knew I was ok.

I glanced at my phone again and pulled it closer to me, scrolling through the endless texts from Ymir.

**To: Ymir**  
**I’m fine. You realize there is a 9 hour difference right? I was sleeping.**

**To: Marci**  
**Ymir is just being Ymir, everything’s alright!**

**To: Mama**  
**I’m sorry! Ymir got to her again. I really do miss you all though.**

I replied to all of them and set my phone down again on the table. It was mid-day so I really didn’t expect it when my phone lit up again, informing me of a text from my sister. Still nothing from Jean.

**From: Marci**  
**Are you sure? Cause Ymir only texts me when you’re in trouble.**

**To: Marci**  
**Why are you awake?**

**From: Marci**  
**Research paper. Uuuuugh.**

**To: Marci**  
**SLEEEP.**

**From: Marci**  
**WHT HAPPPENED TO JEAN. Can that be my new topic?**

**To: Marci**  
**No. Goodnight.**

**From: Marci**  
**Wha- Isn’t it like noon there?**

**To: Marci**  
**I SAID GOODNIGHT.**

I tossed my phone across the couch and shoved it between the cushions with my feet. Of course she would have been watching my YouTube videos. How could she not know about Jean? Trust my sister to be up to date on all things Jean Kirschstein by now.  
I grabbed the blanket draped across the couch and pulled it around my shoulders. I sluggishly worked myself to my feet and shuffled over to my kitchen, ignoring the violent vibrations that were coming from my couch at that moment. My winter break was almost here and the cold weather is settling in already. I’m used to the snow in the north, so it’s not too bad, but the chill through the apartment is enough for me to have the fire going. I skimmed through my cabinets until I found the hot chocolate mix and quickly made myself a cup.

_A Disney movie marathon sounded really good right about now._

I took my cup and returned to my couch, slumping down and pulling my sketchbook towards me. I flipped through mostly all the pages, my eyes narrowing at all the drawings of Jean. I hear my phone buzz one more time and I ignore it, finally reaching an empty page and starting a new drawing.

The silence in the building starts to mess with my ability to concentrate on the art so I reach to grab for my phone and maneuver to the music and press play. I toss it back to my feet and finish a large portion of the sketch before my phone vibrates again, and I sigh, finally reaching over to it and looking at the abundance of messages.

**From: Marci**  
**Is he being a piss pot because you made him read fan fiction?**

**From: Marci**  
**Btw, my friend is a serious shipper of you two. Like I think more than me.**

**From: Marci**  
**It’s not up to Ymir level though. I actually don’t know what Ymir level is.**

**From: Marci**  
**Did Jean do something?**

**From: Marci**  
**You should talk to him. Screw privacy.**

**From: Marci**  
**Come in like a wrecking ball.**

As annoying as it was, she actually had a point. I couldn’t just wait for Jean to come to me. Last time I waited he took two weeks.

**To: Marci**  
**All you ever did was wreck me.**

**From: Marci**  
**Awwwwwww yea, u know eeet.**

I told her to go to bed and then set my sketchbook aside, scrolling through my previous contacts to find Jean near the bottom. I opened up a window to talk to him and took a deep breath. I was about to start typing a text when I received something from Armin.

**From: Armin**  
**You’re doing the year-long abroad program aren’t you?**

**To: Armin**  
**Yeah, why?**

I frowned at it, waiting as he typed out a response and then bit my lip. Armin was easy to talk too, and insanely smart. I couldn’t keep talking to Marci and expect an honest, serious response.

**From: Armin**  
**Alright. You’re not going home then for the break? I wanted to know if you wanted to do anything before I leave?**

**To: Armin**  
**No, I’m not! I would love to!**

**To: Armin**  
**Would you mind if I asked for help on a certain issue?**

**From: Armin**  
**What is it?**

**To: Armin**  
**Um, so I have a slight problem with a dude… It may or may not be Jean… I don’t exactly know what I think of him, and I’m nervous to talk to him but I need to. I’ve never experienced feelings for people ‘that’ way, but he expressed to me he likes me like that, and I don’t know what to do.**

**To: Armin**  
**I mean I’ve experienced something, so I know I’m not asexual, but I don’t know what I am and I don’t know what to tell him because I think I just like him as a friend, but- I’m feeling something else and I don’t know what it is. It’s more than friendship. I think.**

I clutched my phone and saw the notification that Armin was responding. I switched to music and pawed through a playlist of music Jean had introduced me to and started playing some of that. I grabbed my mug and frowned at the dark chocolate ring at the bottom. I sloshed the remainder around in the cup and stood up, shuffling over to the kitchen and pulled out another packet. I felt my phone buzz and brought the screen to my face, eagerly reading his response.

**From: Armin**  
**Of course it’s Jean. Have you thought about being pansexual or demisexual? What you described could be one of them, but it was kind of vague so I could be wrong. When you say ‘experienced something’ do you mean sexually? Asexual just means you aren't sexually attracted to people. Have you considered more than friends with Jean? If so, what’s your view on it?**

**To: Armin**  
**I thought demisexual, but I still don't feel anything for Jean. At least I don’t think so. What I meant was I’ve experienced having the wish to have sex with someone. I thought about it, but I was nervous about the idea. I haven’t really considered actually dating Jean, it’s a bit weird. We’re such good friends. D:**

**From: Armin**  
**Well that’s natural to be nervous. Could it be you’re denying any feelings because you’re worried you’re going to ruin the connection you two have? You say you feel something for him. Can you tell if it’s romantic or sexual? You could be demi-romantic and asexual.**

**From: Armin**  
**If it helps at all think about it this way- Do you want him to yourself, or would you be ok with him in someone else’s arms. Do you want him to take away time from you to do something with someone other than you?**

I stared at that for a while, asking myself those questions. My chest felt tight when I thought of Jean in the arms of someone else. I was so used to having all my free time being consumed by Jean’s presence; I wasn’t ready to give him up. I hadn’t thought about how hard it would be to leave him when I had to go back to Seattle but I already knew I wanted to be selfish for a while longer. If he was with someone else, he’d be holding someone in his sleep. He’d comfort someone else when they woke up from random night terrors. I couldn’t call him at midnight asking if he’d pull an all-nighter with me.

**To: Armin**  
**What do I do if I want to be selfish?**

**From: Armin**  
**Don’t take too long. He certainly won’t wait forever.**

I held the phone like a lifeline and waited for some other kinds of words of wisdom but when nothing came for several minutes, I pocketed the phone and chewed on my lip. I grabbed the fresh brewed hot chocolate and shuffled back over to the couch, pulling out my phone as soon as I was on the cushions. The music had stopped playing on my phone and I hadn’t bothered to play new music. The flat was eerily silent and I was about to play some fall out boy when I heard the growl of the bike outside. I stood up again, walked over to the window and looked out, staring down at the street.

The bright red bike was parked outside my building and when the rider started to pull off his helmet I held my breath as he ran his fingers through his mousy hair. I could barely make out the curls of smoke coming from his lips as he breathed heavily on his bike. He rolled his shoulders and then swung his leg off the bike, pulling out his phone and walking inside the building.

I stood next to the window for a few minutes, eventually scrambling for my phone as it vibrated in my back pocket and looked at the message.

**From: Jean**  
**Can you let me in?**

I turned to stare at the door and slowly walked over to it, nervously pulling the door open and drinking in the sight of him. He had bags under his eyes, his nose and cheeks were red and his eyes looked bloodshot. He had his regular black leather jacket zipped up to his neck, and a deep red scarf pulled around his neck. I was about to ask if he was alright but then the mighty sneeze gave me the diagnosis I needed to pull him inside.

“Why did you come over, you sound awful.” I chastised as he sniffled and shuffled over to the couch, covering his mouth as he coughed. He pulled his scarf off and then his jacket, slowly lowering himself onto the cushions. He opened his mouth and frowned, yanking his phone out and typing out something.

_I’m sorry I never called/txted you._

“Did you lose your voice?” I ask, taking his jacket and draping my blanket around his shoulders. He stares at it for a second and then smiles weakly at me, giving me a tiny nod. I chuckled lightly and walked into my kitchen again; grabbing a glass of water and walking it back over to him. I set it in his hand and picked up the sketchbook on the table, moving it to the small arm chair and then sat on the arm. “You shouldn’t have come here.” I frown.

He holds the water and looks over to me nervously. He looks like he’s about to get up so I add, “You’re not leaving. You’re sick, lay down.”

He looks slightly relieved and moves around slowly, setting his water down on the table and grabbing his phone. His fingers fly around on the screen and then he turns it around so I can read it.

_Ty. Ur not mad?_

I smile and grab a pillow, prodding his shoulder and shoving it beneath his head. I shake my head lightly, “I would hope you weren’t texting me because you were sleeping, yes?” I give him a stern look and he smiles sheepishly. He reaches to type again and I cover the screen, “How long have you been like this?”

3 days, he shows me. I glare at him and huff, “You could have texted me to come to you! You really don’t look like you’re capable of driving… much less a bike.” I knelt down next to him and brushed his hair back from his forehead, running my palm against his heated skin. “You need sleep, you’re so hot.” His cheeks get more flushed and then he grinned devilishly, raising an eyebrow. “I’m kind of glad you can’t talk. I really don’t need you to comment back to that.”

He smiles warmly and chuckles, his phone falling on his chest. I glanced over to the fire that had died down and shuffle over to add a log and keep it burning. When I turn around, Jean’s eyes are closed and his breathing is soft. His hand rested over his phone, and his other hand was loosely hanging off the side of the couch, outstretched to the water. I smile warmly and re-position the blanket on him, moving his arm onto his body and then I moved over to the armchair, slipping into it and flipping to a free page in the sketchbook.

I think back to what Armin mentioned earlier, ‘do you want him to yourself, or would you be alright with him in someone else’s arms.’ I honestly don’t think I would. I want to be selfish, but I believe it’s more than something. When I came to France, I was in the mindset of ‘this is just a video. It’s a onetime thing.’ But then it became a daily occurrence. It wasn’t just the videos’ that did me in though. If he had someone else, they’d get to see his morning bed head, they’d get to experience his morning craving for cuddles, they would get to see that playful smirk and how it reaches his eyes when he’s being truly mischievous.

The realizations were hitting me, however slowly, that I was in fact falling for Jean Kirschstein.

* * *

 

I ended up drawing pages of Jean sleeping. Judge me all you want, but he twists and turns like nobody’s business. I eventually fell asleep on the floor next to the couch, just drawing other things than Jean and enjoying the soft deep breaths from him above me and the crackle from the fire. What I didn’t expect was to be awoken by a heavy body landing on me and the grunt of displeasure from both of us.

I startled awake and stared wide eyed at him as he stared back, opening his mouth to speak and a soft raspy sound came out, “S-Sorry, M-” His body was twisted in the sheets, the pillow discarded somewhere on the floor, and his body was on top of me, his knee between my thighs and his hands on either side of me.

I shook my hand and placed my hands on his bony hips, lightly pushing him away so I could stand up. “Don’t speak, you’ll kill your voice again.” I muttered, eyeing him as he rolled around, leaning his head back against the cushions. “How are you feeling?”  
He raised an eyebrow at me and then gave me thumbs up and a cocky grin. I laughed lightly, nodding. “Coffee?”

“Yes.” He growled quietly, his voice barely audible as the heater kicked in. I frowned at him and he shrugged, pushing himself to his feet and following after me as I shuffled into the kitchen. We stood in silence for a while and when I handed him his coffee, he grunted in response, eagerly sipping the hot beverage and scowling at it.

“Seriously every time you burn your tongue, when will you learn?” I quip, blowing on mine before debating about taking a sip. He opens his mouth to respond but I look up at him and raise an eyebrow, challenging him to try and speak right now. He pouts and then continues to cautiously sip on his coffee in silence.

The morning is quiet and peaceful as I move around, making breakfast for the two of us and try not to give it away when I see the way he licks his lip when I walk out of the shower to grab my sweatshirt still in the living room, the water still fresh on my skin. I also try my hardest to hide all the times I spend drawing him every time I get the chance.

We’re dancing around each other in silence but it’s nice and livable. He seems to be more comfortable around me since the last time, even if he’s trying to keep his distance to make sure I don’t get sick. He texts me to get my attention and then continues to text me to carry on a conversation. Its small talk, but it’s nice. It’s not our previous back and forth that gets painful to listen too.

We’re lounging on the couch when suddenly Jean’s eyes snap open and he snaps up, practically roaring and then pressed a hand to his forehead. His next movements are sluggish, but he still tries to stand, stumbling over to his jacket.  
“Jean? You’re not allowed to leave yet!” I warn, standing to my feet to follow after him.

He grunts in response and pats his jacket down before sticking his hands in the pockets and walks back to me, hiding whatever he pulled out behind his back. He puts one hand over his eyes and points to me. I frown and then he sighs loudly, pressing his palm to my eye and nods. I take the hint and then close my eyes a smile spreading across my lips. I hear something being placed on the coffee table and then a heavier item being placed.

His hands brush my shoulders and then he guides me down onto the couch again, his fingers moved to my hands and lightly tug them away. I look to him, “What was that about?”

He grins and nods at the coffee table which I turn to and see the phone laying on top of an envelope.

_This is my ‘sorry I was a dick to you these past few weeks/days’ peace offering._

I glance up at him and slide the envelope out from under his phone, opening it and pulling out the two slips of colorful paper inside. When I look at the front of them, my breath hitches and I do a double take between him and the tickets. ”You’re kidding.” I whisper, pulling the tickets to my chest.

He chuckles lightly and grabs at the phone, typing out a response while I stare in pure awe at the Disneyland tickets in my hand. “How did you even afford these…?” I mumble, looking back up at him as he smiles while he types. I can see his hands shaking with nervousness and I can’t help but grin as he turns the screen around.

_My Mère offered to help pay. She said I needed to get out more. Take whoever u want, u’ve got two there so just have fun. Mère says merry Christmas btw. She feels bad that u can’t go home. She offered to buy tickets for u earlier, but I never got chance to ask again._

“I could kiss you.” I stated, staring at the tickets in my hand, and then back at his text. The ticket was for the 21 of December. The day my break started officially. Jean would be better by then right? That was only a few days away. I stepped towards him and brushed my hand along his forehead. He didn’t seem as hot although his cheeks were turning a bright shade of red while I touched him. I pulled my hand away and smiled softly, “Would you come with me?”

“Hah?”

“You said ‘take whoever you want’, and I want to go with you.” I beamed at him, hugging the tickets to my chest.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” I raised an eyebrow at him, tilting my head, “Are you some horrible non-Disney fan? Cause if you’re just now telling me this, there is no way we can continue being friends.” I narrow my eyes and his eyes widen before he lightly chuckles and shakes his head. He opens his mouth to talk but changes his mind, typing into his phone again.

_You just can’t get me on any roller coasters._

“Oh we’re going to change that.” I smirk and he groans loudly, lowering himself onto the couch. “Rockin’ roller coaster is the bomb-diggity and you can’t convince me otherwise.” He gave me a dark look and flashes a text at me.

_Bomb-diggity? How old are you._

I chuckled and picked up his empty glass on the coffee table and went to refill it. When I came back, Jean was lounging on the couch, staring wistfully at the TV remote. “You want to watch any movies with me?” I ask, setting the cup down. Jean looks up, and nods slowly. “We’re watching Disney movies just so you know.”

He looked at me flatly and then shrugged, grabbing his water and groaning as he moved to sip on it.

“How about, Up?” He frowns at me over the rim of the glass and I smile, putting in the DVD. “I knew you’d agree.” I hear a disgruntled snort and turn to him as I snatch the remote, skipping through all the previews. “Isn’t there a Ratatouille ride in Disneyland Paris?” I ask, my grin growing as Jean’s eyes narrow to slits, “I bet it’s hard to tell what movie is next, huh?”

“I can still talk putain de bordel de merde.” He snarls his voice rough and low. I can’t help but notice the way the shiver runs up my spine when he speaks French. The nasally sound is more prominent while he was sick, but adding the rough edge to the already sexy language was just icing on the cake. I hear the main menu music, but my eyes stay fixed on Jean. He looked to the screen and then back to me, his jaw dropping as my tongue ran across my bottom lip. “Uh-Marco…” He whispered his voice cracking.

I jumped and instantly pressed play, dropped the remote and walked over to the wall, turning the lights out. “Marco…?” His voice comes again, and I use it to navigate back to the couch, sitting down and jumping when he yelps. “That was my foot you loser!”

I grab his ankles and put them in my lap and he goes quiet instantly, the movie is quiet, and neither of us is making a sound. The music starts up again and then Jean breaths out, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” I mutter, rubbing my palm along the flat of his foot. He snorts and tries to pull his foot back but I snatch it, “Don’t tell me you’re ticklish now.” He’s dead silent as I trail a finger up the bottom of his foot. He laughs again and curls in on himself, trying to tuck his feet close enough to his butt so I won’t reach for them.

I decided to let him escape for this movie, but the next time he wouldn’t be so lucky. His weakness had been exposed and I was going to find every inch on his body that would make him weak in the knees.  
_Wait a second._  
_Not like that._  
I fly out of my seat when I hear the buzz coming from my phone and I reach to grab it, ignoring Jean’s muffled grunts of confusion and discomfort. When I get to the phone I glare at it, of course she’s awake now to bitch at me.

**From: Ymir**  
**I don’t give two flying shits if ur asleep**

**From: Ymir**  
**You’re supposed to answer fellow freckled members, u dipshit**

**To: Ymir**  
**I’m watching a movie, go away**

**From: Ymir**  
**Loose the ‘tude French boy and luv me**

**To: Ymir**  
**Why**

**From: Ymir**  
**Cause I’m gonna set you up**

**From: Ymir**  
**With a French man.**

I groan loudly and don’t bother responding as Ymir carries on telling me about how she’s so magical she’ll have us fucking by nightfall. I drop the phone back on the couch and sit down next to Jean, setting my feet up and wiggling my toes under his curled up body. He looks back to me and smiles, stretching out and exposing his feet. He slightly curls back when he sees my eyes fall to his toes but relaxes when I lightly rub his leg, my eyes turning to fix on the TV.  
I see the light on my phone and the last part of Ymir’s text and try not to laugh. She’s still texting out her plan to get me and Jean together in four hours.

**From: Ymir**  
**All you got to do is slide your hand up his leg**

**From: Ymir**  
**And rub dick.**

I grab the phone before Jean can turn to look at it and frown, quickly trying to shut her up.

**To: Ymir**  
**Wow I think that just might work, kthxbye**

**From: Ymir**  
**Tell me the results**

**From: Ymir**  
**But not in detail you sick bitch**

**To: Ymir**  
**Ok! :D**

I toss the phone on the table, glad it lands face down and then I pull the blanket from Jean over both of us, my eyes transitioning from the movie over to Jean and how he keeps trying to snap himself awake to keep watching the movie. I think we made it halfway through the movie before we were both fast asleep, our legs tangled with each other’s.

* * *

 

I woke up to the bright lights flooding into the apartment and the soft background music from the menu on the TV. I fumbled for the remote and clicked off the TV and slowly removed myself from Jean’s legs and stood up, stretching and yawning. I glanced at Jean, and smiled, lightly pressing my hand to his forehead.

His fever was down, and his eyebrows furrowed, a mumble escaping his lips as he pulled away, grabbing the blanket and burrowing deeper inside. I chuckled lightly and moved into my room, taking a quick shower to get rid of all the built up grime. When I get out it’s brighter if that’s possible and I’m freezing. I dry myself off as fast as possible and pull on my boxers and sweatpants, shivering as I stroll into my bedroom and try to find a shirt.

“Shoot, I need to do laundry.” I grumble, opening and closing drawers until I find something and I finally manage to find something, pulling it out and shutting the drawer, wincing at the loud bang it creates. I hear Jean stir in the living room and poke my head out, cautiously watching as the two toned head moves under the blankets, the little moan erupting from it as he wakes up to the blinding light.

“Sorry, Jean!” I call out, pulling the shirt over my head.

“Why is it so bright?” He growls, pulling the blanket further over his head. His voice sounds thicker and solid and I smile, walking over to him and lightly pushing him.

“Come on, you need to move.”

“You said I need sleep.”

“That was two days ago.” I mumbled, prodding him again and remembered that he said he was ticklish yesterday. He seems to move in a sense to roll over but I rip the blanket off of him and he snarls, moving his arms over his head to shield his eyes. I move to straddle him and he tenses, slowly lowering his arms and staring at me nervously.

“M-Marco? What… no.” His eyes flicker between mine and then the realization hits him and he starts to squirm. “I’ll get up! I’ll get up!” He barks, his voice cracking at his loud outburst.

“Too slow, Frenchy!” I giggle, digging my fingers into his sides. His laugh is loud and his legs flail beneath me, he tries to twist away but I’m relentless, moving my fingers closer to his arms and he squirms. He uses the leverage from one of his legs to try and flip us over and I land roughly on the floor, Jean managing to catch himself before he fell on me.

“Don’t… do… that again…” he pants, scrambling off the couch and standing with his arms out in a defense mechanism. I laugh and start to sit up, rubbing the back of my head. “I’m sorry, did that hurt?” He quips. I nod my head and start to stand and he jumps back, his eyes narrowed, “I was going to get up.” I reach forward with grabby hands and he makes a break for my room, “No!”

I snort with laughter when he nearly slides to the floor in his haste to get away from me. I walk into the kitchen, little huffs of laughter escaping my lips as I hear him trip and then his breath as he comes to the kitchen, sniffling occasionally. I turn around and he jumps, cautiously stepping forward, “I just want coffee, bro.” He warns, slowly walking forward, light on his feet as if prepared to bolt when I jumped at him.

“Jumpy much?” I giggle, staying by the stove as I make bacon. He glowers at me and turns his back to pour coffee, turning around as fast as he can without spilling coffee. He takes a step back, making sure to keep his eyes on me for any sudden movements. I watch him and move forward teasingly. He takes a quick step back and makes it to the table without spilling his drink miraculously. “Nice balance!” I cheer, pulling out the eggs from the fridge.

“Shut it freckles.” He hums, taking a slow drink from his cup.

“Want a breakfast taco?” I smile, cracking open an egg and setting the bacon aside.

“You just have to have tacos in the morning… Americans.”

“You know you love it.” I smile, waving the plate of bacon close to him. His stomach roared and his expression fell flat and he sipped on his coffee.

“I want one.” He sets the coffee down and moves closer to me, grabbing a piece of bacon and munching on it. I take a step closer to him and he shuffled away, walking closer to his phone and picking it up.

“Have I lost your trust?” I ask lightly, moving the eggs around in the pan.

“All of it.” He replies, flipping through his texts. “Sasha wants to know if I died… what should I say.”

“Well are you?” I laugh, putting the eggs on another plate and grab tortillas. I move over to the table, putting them all down on the table and wave to Jean. He shuffles over, yawning.

“I can be. She’ll leave me alone.

“Then she’ll come to me.” I mutter, wrapping up the tortilla and smiling warmly at Jean. I see the blush grow on his cheeks and nod to his plate, “eat!”  
He looks at the plate and sits down, replying to Sasha and then finally picks up the taco. “I told her I was dead.”  
“Smooth.” I laugh, munching happily on the decently cooked meal.

Jean’s phone angrily vibrated and he looked at it, huffing before he even got to take a bite. “Mother hen is calling me back, apparently I ‘ate all the food’” He used air quotations and quickly took a bite of the taco, giving me a soft look. He swallowed his mouthful and flashed a wide grin, “Am I allowed to leave? Have I passed the Marco healthy test yet?”

I opened my mouth and closed it. I set the taco down and frowned. I didn’t want him to leave yet. I reached across the table and brushed my palm against his forehead, my hand cold against his skin. “You still seem a little warm.”  
“Is that a no?” He almost seems too eager as he grins and leans forward, fingers prepared to text back to Sasha.

“No, you know I have exams coming up.” I sigh, finishing up my food and leaning back. Jean frowns and straightens, his expression falling.

“Right,” He shoves the rest of the taco in his mouth and starts to stand up, “Sorry, forgot you were in school for a moment.” He nearly trips walking out of the kitchen and I jump to my feet, striding after him. _He’s not making another break for it._  
_He’s not getting away this time._

“Just give me a few hours.” I shoot, blocking him in the doorway, grabbing his jacket. He’s already got the scarf around his neck and he looks like a kicked puppy. He’s got the mightiest frown on his face though and I laugh, brushing my thumb across the crease in his eyebrows, “Shower, get a change of clothes, let Sasha know you’re not in a coma, and then come back.” His expression starts to light up and I add in, “Otherwise I’m going to turn into a mother hen. We don’t want that now do we?” I smile warmly, my hand sliding down the side of his face and down to his shoulder.

“Nah,” He hums, reaching to get the jacket from my hand.

I can’t stop myself from pulling him to me again, humming lightly in his ear, “Thank you, Jean,” He stiffens for a moment and I let him go, worried I’ve broken the comfort we’ve worked up to again but I see the intense blush and smile as he quickly tugs on the jacket. What I don’t expect is for him to wrap his arms around my neck and pull me in for another hug. I also don’t expect the little kiss on my cheek and when he says goodbye and leaves through the door I’m still standing dumbstruck in my foyer, my heart pounding.

I think I forgot the parachute when I started falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WORK DAMN IT. I hate the dorms internet right now. Only took me 4 hours to try and post this.
> 
> HUURGH. How long ago was the last update? I'm sorry.... i'm so sorry.  
> I spent the last few days/weeks just getting out of class and sitting in front of the computer and doing the stereotypical crack knuckles/roll up sleeves and then stare at the screen. It seems to have paid off? Even if there were some parts that still... really... really need work.
> 
> On the plus side, this was half of what I had originally had planned for this chapter. It's shorter than I wanted, but I didn't want to make you wait for so long that all you fabulous readers 'died' as so many of you said you would. ;)  
> I think I'm getting into the swing of writing this again.... hopefully...
> 
> Comments/critiques very much appreciated. 
> 
> THANK YOU FOR BEING LOVELY, HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT. Whatever timezone your in. Idk.  
> My [tumblr](http://freckled-jean.tumblr.com/) if you want to pester me <3

**Author's Note:**

> -PLEASE NOTE-  
> Undergoing a huge revision and will be on hiatus for a while! I'm so terribly sorry for the absence.
> 
> It will be bigger, better, and complete with more sass. _and angst..._  
>  And as my friend said after reading some revisions, "10/10, 100%"


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